


Days of Abandon

by strange_seas



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Actor!AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 03:16:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17134001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strange_seas/pseuds/strange_seas
Summary: On the set of their new film, golden boys Luhan and Minseok learn a basic human truth: that the heart is deceitful above all things.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LiveJournal on July 14, 2014. Title is a play on Wong Kar Wai’s _Days of Being Wild_. Brief mention of homophobia.

"Under the circumstances," Jongin says with a cheeky grin, "you could do worse."

The Gangnam bar they're sitting in is quiet, with just a few other patrons nestled in its polished corners for happy hour. Still, it takes a beat for the words to filter into Luhan's ears and pull him away from his phone.

"What?" he asks.

Soojung's just sent him a message on Line. She's asking if they're still on for dinner tonight after she wraps up her filming schedule. Luhan guesses she's in her hanbok now, something brightand pretty, with the faceful of makeup she can't wait to scrub off once she leaves the set of her sageuk.

Jongin wiggles his eyebrows, and for some reason he's holding out his Galaxy Note, like he wants to show Luhan something on it. Luhan only manages a distracted hum before returning his attention to his own device.

 _Of course,_ he types out to Soojung.  _I'll come scoop you up. Just tell me when._

 _Thanks, oppa,_ she replies swiftly.  _See you in a bit <3_

 _Can't wait,_ Luhan sends back, just as Jongin starts to brandish the phone in his face.

"Hyung~" Jongin whines. "Look."

Luhan sighs, but takes the phone anyway. "You know," he says wryly, "for a rockstar, you sure act like a little girl sometimes."

Jongin cuts his eyes at him. "It's called aegyo." His ensuing smirk is the one that makes all the grown-up girls scream. "I'm famous for it."

"You're famous for yelling out racy lyrics while half-naked," Luhan tells him mildly, and Jongin laughs, throwing up his hands in surrender. Luhan grins at him. He doesn't bother masking the indulgence in it. For all his mischief, Jongin is still his favorite junior.

He looks down at the phone in his hand and runs his thumb across the screen. It lights up with a Newsen article.

 _Kim Minseok, Luhan take on first gay roles,_ the headline reads.  _Korea's national heartthrob set to romance China's prince in new drama film, Days of Abandon._

Luhan's still blonde in the article's photo of him, a dye job he'd gotten for his previous movie role. Carelessly, he runs his fingers through the short hairs at his nape. It's all back to black now--black as Kim Minseok's sleek, strategically-rumpled crop, which makes him look older in  _his_ photo. Luhan's hairstylist had given him a similar cut two weeks ago.

"You've already got the matching thing down," Jongin teases, tugging at a piece of Luhan's fringe before the latter can evade him. "Couple hair."

Luhan swats his hand away. "You're so fresh sometimes." He reaches across their table and rakes Jongin's bangs over his eyes in retaliation.

The younger doesn't even resist. His smile is a slice of white against his golden skin, teeth still unblemished even with all the smoking. He and Luhan go to the same dentist in Apgujeong.

"Aw, come on, hyung." Jongin blows his bangs out of his eyes, and really, he looks nothing like the smoldering sex god Kai. He's all puppy. Irresistible, and a little infuriating. "I'm just remarking on how good you look with your new boyfriend."

"It's a film role, Jongin. And a great one, at that." Luhan hands back the phone. "Tease me all you want, but I'm kind of excited to try something new."

Jongin relents. "I know, I know." His smile is softer now, so Luhan knows he's taking him seriously. "So it's your first time doing something like this, huh?" Jongin takes a sip of his beer. "You're like…a virgin."

The wording is so ridiculous. It's only a matter of seconds before the laughter bursts out of them both like the hiccups.

"Like a virgin," Jongin sings out of tune. "Touched for the very first time!"

Luhan balls up his cocktail napkin and tosses it in Jongin's direction. "Stop making it weird," he protests, even as another laugh bubbles in his throat. "This is very important work."

"Fiiine," Jongin replies, leaning back in his seat. He wipes some moisture from his eyes, the result of their mirth. "What does Soojung have to say about it?"

Luhan can feel his expression souring just a touch. "She's kind of…a fan of his." When Jongin cocks an eyebrow and attaches it to a knowing smirk, Luhan caves. "Okay, fine. She's a  _big_ fan." He takes a swig of his own beer. So what if Jongin knows he's jealous? Luhan might have been voted the Sexiest Man in China (even though he mostly works away from the motherland), but Kim Minseok has been voted the Sexiest Man in Asia. Twice.

Not that Luhan's been keeping tabs on him or anything.

"I see." There's an insinuating curl to Jongin's lip. "And I take it she said something to deserve this reaction."

"She said she wouldn't mind seeing us kiss." Jongin's cackle seems to rip right out of him. "Said she likes the way Kim Minseok does it." In a flash, Luhan adds, "They've never worked together, all right? She just likes his style…onscreen."

"Kinky," Jongin sing-songs.

"Hey." Luhan's mouth flattens into a disapproving line. "Don't talk about her like that. She's my girlfriend."

"Oh, hyung, lighten up."

"I'm serious, Jongin."

The tilt of Jongin's brow is deliberately coy. "I think it's cool Soojung likes your piece on the side. Maybe she'll want one of her own, too--like me, for example."

"Not a  _chance_ ," Luhan grits out through his teeth. He's not really angry, but it's exasperating the way Jongin knows exactly which buttons to push. "She doesn't even like you that much. Thinks you're trouble."

Jongin nudges him on the shoulder. The action is good-natured, and it says,  _Just kidding, hyung._ Still, Jongin's eyes are sparkling. "I  _am_ trouble."

"Brat." Luhan blows out his lips in disbelief.

The sound of a throat clearing softly from behind him breaks the flow of conversation.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," a discreet voice murmurs. "But Jongin has a schedule…"

The gentling effect it has on Jongin's face doesn't escape Luhan. Neither does his slow smile.

"Soo," the rockstar says, eyes directed over Luhan's shoulder. "Where've you been?"

Luhan turns. Jongin's doe-eyed manager, Kyungsoo, stands patiently by his chair. He's wearing a crisp blue button-down tucked into faded jeans, looking more like an off-duty businessman than the manager of wildchild Kai.

Luhan's always liked him, because Jongin seems so much calmer when he's around.

"Hello, Soo!" Luhan says amiably.

"Hello, Luhan-sshi." Kyungsoo dips his head. Again he says, "I'm sorry to disturb you."

The actor glosses over it. "Just Luhan, remember?" He gets up and throws an arm over Kyungsoo's shoulders. "How long have we known each other?" Kyungsoo smiles shyly and dips his head again.

"You're not disturbing us, Soo," Jongin says, frowning ever-so-slightly. He downs his beer, already rising from his seat. "I should've been keeping track of time."

"Are you ready to go?" Kyungsoo asks, and Jongin nods reassuringly. Luhan nods, too, giving Kyungsoo one last squeeze on the arm before the smaller man thanks him and turns to leave.

Jongin is surreptitiously slipping the server his credit card. Luhan intercepts him just in time. "Jonginnie," he chides, "I've got it. Go on before Kyungsoo starts to worry."

Jongin grins, puppy-like once more. "Thanks, hyung. I'll get the next one." Luhan waves him off, and then Jongin's striding past him to catch up to his manager. Luhan watches as he puts his hand on top of Kyungsoo's head and bends to tell him something. He's looking into Kyungsoo's face. Whatever he's said makes his manager chuckle, the sound of it carrying over the ambient hush in the bar.

 _It's strange,_ Luhan thinks, watching the two men duck out through the exit,  _how some people can make you act completely different in their presence._

He doesn't have time to finish the thought, because his phone rings in his pocket. He pulls it out. It's Soojung calling.

"Hey, beautiful," Luhan murmurs as soon as he picks up.

"Hi," Soojung answers, her voice light and mellifluous. There's a smile in it, too. "Just finished taping for today." Luhan can hear the chorus of  _thank yous_ and  _good nights_ and  _you've worked hards_ in the background. "I'll be ready in twenty minutes. Is that okay with you?"

"Perfect," Luhan says, and Soojung makes a soft, pleasant sound. "I was just coming to get you."

 

 

The first read-through for  _Days of Abandon_ happens three weeks later at a film studio in Myeongdong. Luhan's early as usual, and there's only Gu PD and some staffers to greet when he's ushered into the venue.

"Kim Minseok isn't here yet," Luhan observes, scanning the room.

"Don't worry," Yixing says. He's slipped into Mandarin unconsciously, the way he always does in the mornings when he's still half-asleep. Luhan snickers to himself; his manager is so predictable. "He'll be here."

"He's probably still with one of his supermodels," Luhan surmises. Kim Minseok isn't known as the national heartthrob for nothing.

Yixing shrugs and slurps his Americano. "I don't doubt for a second that he was sleeping with one of them last night. But he won't be sleeping  _in_ , I can guarantee you that." Luhan tilts his head, asking for more intel. Yixing's mouth stretches open in a yawn. "He always comes on the dot, apparently. Never early, never late."

Luhan consults the time on his phone. Nine o'clock. "Thirty more minutes, then." He places his phone on the table in front of him, next to his script. "Let's time him." He hears Yixing chuckle and smells coffee as his manager undoubtedly takes another sip from his cup. Luhan picks up the thick white pamphlet, lines already color-coded per actor, and starts to go through it.

 _Days of Abandon_  is set in present-day Hong Kong. Two old schoolmates reunite in the urban jungle after years of separation, and a taboo relationship blossoms between them. Taboo, because one is a married man, and the other a gay bachelor. Luhan plays Wu Zhao, the Hong Kong native with an unfaithful wife. Kim Minseok plays Park Song Joon, a Korean peer from international school, now a lonely businessman who finds himself back in town on an extended visit.

Thumbing through the middle section of his script, where the plot starts to thicken, it suddenly dawns on Luhan just how much acting this movie is going to require of him.

"I want you," Zhao whispers to Song Joon in one scene. "I want you, but I don't understand it." They are in Zhao's apartment, and his wife is at her lover's, and Song Joon is supposed to slide his hand over Zhao's heart.

"I know you've never thought of men that way," Song Joon whispers back. "You don't have to be anything you don't want to be. Just let me stay with you." Here, Zhao is supposed to take the lead and kiss him on the mouth. DEEP KISS, the script notes read in capital letters. It's the first one they share.

Luhan closes his eyes, trying to get in character. He imagines himself having this conversation with someone he desperately loves. He pictures Soojung in his head. Her thick, dark hair and smiling eyes. The rose-petal smoothness of her cheeks. The heat of her mouth when he kisses her and the flutter in her eyelids when he presses his lips to her belly button.

But it feels like cheating, because his character is supposed to be in love with a man he hardly knows, and Soojung is a girl who's told Luhan all her secrets in the two years they've spent together.

His sigh exits in a long, belabored stream of breath.

"Everything all right?"

The voice is husky, with an upward lilt to it. It sounds hesitant, too, but like it's trying not to be.

Luhan looks up. Kim Minseok is studying him, dark-haired and cat-eyed, the expression on his face mild.

"Oh, hey," Luhan says, clearing his head of its haze. He rises from his seat and extends a hand. "I'm Luhan."

"Of course," Minseok says, taking it. His palm is cool, whereas Luhan's is warm. "I'm Minseok. I really admire your work."

Luhan can't help feeling a little sheepish at that. "Thank you," he says. Their arms fall back to their sides. "Same here."

"His girlfriend  _loves_ you," Yixing quips from behind him. He's too practical to ever get starstruck. "I'm Yixing, by the way. Lu's manager."

Minseok bows slightly and shakes Yixing's hand. "Nice to meet you, Yixing-sshi." He turns back to Luhanand smiles. "Your girlfriend's Jung Soojung, right?"

"Right," Luhan says, smiling back in spite of himself. "How'd you know?"

"Who doesn't?" Minseok asks. He has small, white teeth, like a child's. "She's gorgeous."

"She is," Luhan says. He's surprised he doesn't feel threatened--no, he just swells with pride. "I'm a lucky guy."

Minseok's eyes twinkle as he shoves his hands into his pockets. He's wearing a pair of gray jeans Luhan is  _sure_ he owns, too. "I did my research on you, since we're going to be spending a lot of time together," Minseok admits. "Thought I should come prepared, try to break the ice." He seems to check himself then, pursing his mouth and laughing all of a sudden. "Sorry, that made it sound like we were going on a blind date or something."

Luhan laughs, too. "We kind of are? My first gay role, your first gay role. We're pretty much going into this thing blind."

"Right?" Minseok looks like he's glad to find someone in the same boat. "I was just telling this girl I'm seeing--"

"Supermodel, naturally," Luhan quips. His mouth stills awkwardly over the last syllable. He's not sure why he's letting himself be so familiar with Kim Minseok, when they've only just met.

Minseok doesn't seem to mind, though. "Oh, come on, that's not really a thing." He rolls back on his heels. "I like all women."

It puts Luhan at ease for some reason. "Just keep your hands off my girl," he says affably, with absolutely no bite to it, and Minseok's small teeth flash again. "You were saying?"

"I was saying," Minseok continues, "that I was telling her about the movie,and she goes--" his voice escalates, "'Oh, you and Luhan? You would look so cute together.'" Minseok shakes his head a little, chuckling on an exhale. "I wasn't sure how to react."

"My friend Jongin said the same thing," Luhan tells him. Minseok lets out a soft  _oh_. "I guess we just, I dunno--"

"You just have natural chemistry," Gu PD pipes up out of nowhere. He claps Minseok fondly on the side of his face. "Still on time, huh, Minseok-ah? You never change."

"No, PD-nim," Minseok says with equal fondness. He bows respectfully, but his stance is relaxed when he straightens up. "I'm a creature of habit."

The director strikes up a bit of small talk about Minseok's last movie, and Luhan takes the opportunity to pick up his phone. Stealthily, he checks the time. Nine thirty-five. Heand Kim Minseok have been talking for approximately five minutes.

 _On the dot,_ he thinks to himself, recalling Yixing's words. Then he hears his name. "Pardon?"

Minseok is saying, "I'll sit across from you, okay?" Luhan lifts his eyebrows. "It's easier for me to go through the dialogue that way, versus sitting next to the person I'm supposed to be talking to."

"That's fine," Luhan replies, a little endeared by the unnecessary explanation. "Do what you have to do."

"Cool." Minseok shoots him a bright smile, his pink gums gleaming inside of it.

Gu PD is calling for the rest of cast to take their seats around the square actors' table. Minseok moves to cross the room. Luhan places his phone back on the tableand slides into his chair.

"By the way," Minseok says, turning around again. "Do I call you Luhan? Or…"

"Or?" Luhan flips back to the first page of the script. He folds the cover back neatly as he questions Minseok with his eyes.

"Your manager called you Lu." Minseok returns his inquisitive gaze. "That's your last name, isn't it?"

"You  _have_ done your research," Luhan replies. "Last name. Nickname. All of the above."

"So what do I call you?" Minseok asks.

Luhan shrugs. "Whatever you like." He smooths his palm over his script and decides, on a whim, to try something new. "Minseok-ah."

The crinkles in the corners of Minseok's eyes make the risk worth it. "Okay," he says, walking backwards with his hands still in his pockets. "Let's have fun today, Lu."

 

 

"Park Song Joon," Zhao declares. "Is that you?"

"Wu Zhao," Song Joon replies, wonder creeping into his tone. "I haven't seen you in a decade. Or has it been more?"

"More." Zhao smiles, shaking his head. "Last time I saw you, I was seventeen."

"How old are you now?" Song Joon asks, raking a hand through his hair.

"I'm thirty," Wu Zhao tells him. "We're exactly the same age, aren't we?"

"Yeah." A gleam of the eye, a quirk of the lip, and it isn't Song Joon talking anymore. "  _Flirty_ thirty."

The room erupts in laughter. Luhan's laughing the hardest of all.

"Minseok-ah," Gu PD scolds half-heartedly. "Don't break character."

"Sorry, PD-nim," Minseok apologizes sweetly. He still looks so pleased with himself. "I thought I'd spice things up a little."

"Powerful stuff," Luhan deadpans, and another wave of laughter swells like the tide.

Today marks the fourth official read-through for  _Days of Abandon_ , and the tenth time they've gone through the entire script. Luhan gets why Minseok is antsy--he is, too. He can't wait to start filming in Hong Kong; to smell the air and the streets, hear the whir of traffic and fast-paced Mandarin. He can't wait to feel Wu Zhao in his bones in every take, the character encasing him, flesh and blood.

Fact is, read-throughs are boring. So  _repetitive_. Luhan's just glad he's got golden boy Kim Minseok around to make things bearable.

Gu PD sighs in resignation. "Let's break for lunch," he says, addressing the entire group. "Reconvene in an hour."

Luhan catches Minseok's eye and mouths,  _Jajangmyeon?_ Minseok nods vigorously, flashing two thumbs up.

"I'm  _dying_ ," Luhan tells him a few minutes later as they walk to the Chinese joint near the film studio.

"Same here," Minseok agrees. "One last read-through. Then Hong Kong, here we come."

"But we go through the script three times each meeting." Luhan's half-whining, half-sniggering at the way Minseok's eyes roll to the back of his head. "We'll probably take even longer than usual today because of your little adlib."

"You liked it."

"Absolutely." Easily, Luhan reaches out to ruffle the hair on the back of Minseok's head. "Not a lot of laughs in this love story of ours."

Minseok doesn't bother smoothing down the mess. "Can you imagine turning thirty, Lu?"

"Three years to go." Luhan brushes a fingertip against his own fringe. He needs to get it trimmed before they start the live shoots. "It seems like a long time, but I'll bet you it'll fly by."

"Yeah." Minseok watches the movement casually. "It usually does."

They get to the restaurant, and the ahjumma who operates it greets them enthusiastically. "You boys are so handsome," she gushes. "You get more and more dashing every time I see you." Minseok gives her a hug, and the ahjumma pulls Luhan into it, too, patting their backs simultaneously.

This place has become a familiar haunt. They'd gone after the first read-through and every read-through after that, ordering greasy bowls of black bean noodles and the smallest cans of Cass in stock. Not exactly in keeping with their diets, but Luhan reckons these cheat days won't hurt. He and Minseok have taken to exercising together, too, fitting in the gym sessions between their  _Days of Abandon_  meetings and other schedules.

"I was a fat kid," Minseok admitted during one of their workouts. "I have to work to keep the weight off. Not like you." He'd smiled his gummy smile, and Luhan could imagine him being just as likable with double the meat on his bones.

"I grow a beer gut like  _that_ ," he'd told Minseok, snapping his fingers. "So I have to work it off, too."

In record time, the ahjumma brings their jajangmyeon, leaving extra packets of wipes on the table. Luhan splits his chopsticks and swirls them through the noodles. They make a pleasing, gooey sound as he incorporates the sauce.

"Oh, right, Minseok-ah," Luhan says. The other actor hums in return, mixing the contents of his own bowl. "Do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow? Soojung's making puttanesca."

"Nice." Minseok looks up from his noodles. "She won't mind me crashing your dinner?"

"No," Luhan replies, slouching over his bowl. "She told me to invite you."

"Really?" Minseok's eyes go a little round. "Why?"

A mouthful of noodles disappears into Luhan's mouth with a slurp. "She's curious about you."

Minseok licks sauce off of one of his chopsticks. "That okay with you?"

"If you'd asked me two months ago, I'd have said no," Luhan confesses. "But we're friends now." He swallows the food he's chewed into the side of his cheek and tries not to meet Minseok's eyes. "I kind of like hanging out with you."

"Cool," Minseok answers instantly, so blasé. "'Cause I kind of like hanging out with you, too."

Luhan glances up then, and they share a knowing smile before going back to their food. It's oily and sloppy, a little stinky. Luhan knows he's going to have to wash the black out of his mouth before they go back to the read-through, but he doesn't care. It's delicious.

Their comfortable silence is broken when Minseok's phone rings in his pocket. He pulls it out, glances at the screen, and gestures to Luhan that he's going to take it outside. "I'll be right back," he says, running his tongue over his teeth. Luhan nods, just as Minseok answers the call and turns.

"Hey, baby," Luhan hears him say as he pushes through the door. "What's up?"

 _Supermodel_ , Luhan thinks to himself, sucking up another curtain of noodles.

Fleetingly, he wonders if he should tell Minseok to bring a date--whoever it is he's dating right now. But the idea is pushed to the back of his mind when the ahjumma comes by their table to chitchat, and it doesn't resurface, not even when Minseok strolls back in from his private call.

 

 

In her pale silk blouse and tight white jeans, Soojung looks every bit as gorgeous as she does in her Basic House ads. Scratch that--Luhan thinks she looks even better.

She's setting down a plate of sourbread on his dinner table, her hair tied back in a ponytail. Luhan watches her lazily, admiring the delicateness of her wrists and the way her hair curls at the very ends.

"Don't stare at me like that, oppa," she says playfully. Only then does Luhan notice the pink pooling in her cheeks.

"Why not?" he asks. He reaches up to tuck a loose tendril of hair behind her ear.

She lets him do it. Her smile is smal land sweet. "It makes me nervous."

"Nervous?" Luhan furrows his brow. "Why would you be nervous around me?"

"No, I mean, it's nothing," Soojung backpedals. "I'm just being silly." Her smile widens now, so endearingly honest, and Luhan can feel the warmth of affection in his chest.

He catches her wrist from across the table. "Come here for a second, will you?"

She circles the table obligingly, fingers lacing into his as he pulls her into his lap. He pecks her on the tip of her nose, and her eyelashes quiver. "Explain it to me, Soojung."

"It's really nothing." She plants a kiss between his eyebrows. "You just…you make me feel special."

"You are special," Luhan says, staring up at her.

She laughs, hiding her face as it turns a flattering shade of crimson. She's always been embarrassed by stuff like this. Luhan, on the other hand, is heart-on-sleeve.

"I have to finish the pasta," she tells him, squirming in his lap. Luhan only releases her when she tickles his ribs.

"Are you excited to meet Minseok?" he asks, observing the sway of Soojung's hips as she walks back into the kitchen.

"Of course," she replies. She looks over her shoulder, the expression on her face impish. "But what I'm  _really_ excited to see is your kissing scene."

The sound Luhan makes is between a gurgle and a groan. "  _Soojung._ "

"What?" she asks innocently. "Ex-idols like me with 'girl-next door image' stamped into our contracts rarely get kissed properly on camera--"

"I'll kiss you any way you like," Luhan tries to interrupt.

"--so at least let me enjoy the view." Soojung beams at him with complete disregard. She lifts a hand to faux-fan at her cheek. "The way that man kisses is--"

"Don't say it," Luhan warns, already edging out of his chair.

" _Hot_." Soojung giggles, and Luhan screws up his mouth, unable to contain the grin behind it. His girlfriend doesn't stop talking, not even when he strides over to her and reels her in by the waist. "He does it the Hollywood way, open mouth, with tongue--"

"Open mouth, huh?" Luhan grazes his lips along the column of her neck. He laps, just once, at the pulse point underneath her jaw. "With tongue?"

He can feel Soojung melt into his arms, her smile wavering infinitesimally. "Yes, oppa."

"You're making me jealous of him now," he says, tilting his head so he can press their mouths together. He switches sides, then touches his tongue to hers when Soojung parts her lips. "I don't think I like Minseok anymore."

"You don't have any reason to be jealous." Soojung sounds a little breathless now. "I'm just teasing." She kisses his upper lip gently. "You know I'm in love with you."

It never gets old. One minute she's as shy as a rosebud, the next like a naughty child, the next an open book. It's one of the things Luhan likes most about her.

He presses their foreheads together. "So why don't I just tell him to turn back and take you into the shower with me?"

"Nooo," Soojung squeals, effectively breaking the moment by batting him away. "I made this fancy dinner!"

"You made it for me."

"You  _and_ Kim Minseok," she insists, laughing in defiance. "Oppa, you know I used to have a poster of him in my old dorm, right? The whole time I was in Krystal?"

Krystal was the girl group Soojung belonged to from age sixteen to twenty-two. Its members have since disbanded amicably to pursue solo careers. When Luhan met Soojung last year, she had just turned twenty-three, which means she's had a thing for Kim Minseok for approximately…

Luhan's nostrils flare. "You  _what?_ "

"So pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease." The girl positively wriggles. "  _Please,_ oppa. Let me finally meet him, hmm?"

The doorbell rings before Luhan can retort. His eyes flick over to the wall clock on impulse. Eight PM. Of course.

"He's here!" Soojung whispers, hands flapping at her sides. She smooths back her hair, pauses, and repeats the action two more times.

It reminds Luhan of the time he'd run into Zhang Ziyi backstage at an award show in Shanghai. He was already famous by then, but he'd still tugged at the sleeves of his tux obsessively, hoping the jacket was sitting squarely on his shoulders, right before she'd said hello.

Soojung's fidgeting with the strap of her blouse. It's actually kind of cute. "You look great," Luhan says, thawing. "Just don't flirt with him too much, okay?"

"Oppa, I would  _never_ \--"

"I know, beautiful." He pecks her on the cheek, the smack loud and indulgent. "I'm just teasing."

He goes to answer the door as Soojung plates her puttanesca. Minseok's standing in the corridor with a bottle of red in one hand.

"Park Song Joon," Luhan drawls. "Is that you?"

Smile crooked, Minseok props up his free hand in greeting.

Luhan chuckles, taking the wine. "On the dot, as always."

"You know me."

"Come on in." Luhan waves him through the door. "Soojung's dying to meet you." He can hear the hissed  _oppa!_ like a whip slicing through air.

Minseok rubs the back of his neck, smile pulling up evenly on both sides. "Hello, Soojung-sshi."

A demure, cotton-soft voice replies, "Hello, sunbaenim. Just Soojung, please~"

Luhan jabs Minseok in the sternum. "No. Flirting."

"Yeah, yeah." The other actor pats Luhan's chest in a way that's meant to be heartening. His hand's still as cool as it was before. "Not while my man is here."

From all the way in the kitchen, Soojung guffaws.

 

 

Save for a few wet streaks of tomato, the serving plate looks as though it's been licked clean.

"That was delicious, Soojung," Minseok tells the beautiful cook. "Thanks for letting me try it."

"You're welcome, sunbaenim," she replies, looking like a kid who's just been handed a present.

Luhan smiles at her, pouring her another glass of wine. The night has gone well. Being the outgoing type, Soojung wasted no time in making Minseok feel comfortable in her boyfriend's home. She'd seated him next to Luhan at the table, fussing over them both as she peppered Minseok with questions about his last two romcoms. She'd let slip that she'd seen his very first film at sixteen, when he was a nineteen-year-old rookie playing a Korean Romeo, and Minseok's smile had been bashful.

"I was a big Krystal fan," he'd admitted, and Luhan hadn't minded how quickly Soojung colored with pleasure. Krystal had had a legion of followers--Luhan among them.

He offers Minseok the last bit of burgundy in the bottle. When the latter declines, licking at the wine-stained seam of his mouth, Luhan pours it for himself.

"You don't have to be so formal with me," Minseok tells Soojung, his tone already fond.

Luhan can tell she likes that. "We debuted at the same time, didn't we? One year before oppa did?" Her face is still a little rosy. She blushes so easily.

"That's right, sunbaenim," Luhan quips, sending a wink her way. Soojung tugs at his earlobe, more a caress than a reprimand.

She turns back to Minseok. "I'll drop the  _nim_ then, sunbae." Her eyes curve into crescents. "I'd call you oppa, but--"

" _Oppa_ here wouldn't stand for that," Minseok concludes, jerking his head in Luhan's direction.

"Ha ha, funny," Luhan scoffs, reaching into his pocket for his cigarettes. "Sooj, I'm just gonna go for a smoke, okay?"

Her pretty face pinches. "I wish you'd quit. Those things are horrible for you."

"I'll just have one," he bargains, sweet as honey. He pats his belly. It makes a compact sound. "I need it. You fed me too well."

Minseok sniggers. Soojung rolls her eyes. Pointedly, she asks, "Do  _you_ smoke, sunbae?"

"Oh…uh," Minseok stalls. He looks as though he doesn't want to disappoint her. "Only when reminded?" Her laugh is like a little song. Luhan watches as Minseok--the traitor--bats his eyelashes at his girlfriend. "Can I go have one, too, Soojung?"

"Just one," she declares, shaking her pointer at him.

Luhan hooks his fingers behind Minseok's elbow and half-hauls him out of his seat. "All right, that's enough. Come on." When he loosens his grip, Minseok's arm wraps easily around his waist.

"Lead the way, Lu."

They take the elevator down to the pool area on the fifth floor, where smoking is permitted. Luhan hands Minseok a Dunhill and puts another in his mouth, holding his lighter between them so the flame ignites both cigarettes at once.

Minseok takes a long drag of his stick. "Soojung's great," he says easily. "I can see why you're with her."

"Thanks." Luhan exhales, the smoke curling in a ribbon of diaphanous white. "You still seeing that supermodel, Minseok-ah?"

The other smirks. "You say that like you know it for sure."

"She's the one in all those SK-II ads, right?" Luhan licks his lips. They taste of wine and olives. "Yixing told me."

Minseok shrugs, pulling in another drag. The way his mouth tapers around the stick is neat and expert, not a wisp of smoke escaping until he blows it all out in a steady stream. "Yeah," he answers. "It's on and off."

"Oh?" Luhan blows a few smoke rings, rounding out his mouth and flicking his tongue to create the hole in center. "Mind if I ask why?"

"No particular reason." Minseok stabs at the rings boyishly before they dissipate. "Sometimes it works. Other times it doesn't." He grins, but it looks a little worn. "There aren't a lot of girls out there like Soojung."

Without thinking, Luhan makes an offer he didn't realize was on the table. "Whenever it doesn't work," he says, "you should just hang out with us."

Minseok laughs, just once. It's all gums and perfect, pearly teeth. "Do you feel sorry for me, Lu?"

"Hardly, Mr. Sexiest Man in All of the Orient," Luhan retorts mildly. Minseok laughs again, and Luhan can't tell if he's being sarcastic or earnest. Not that it matters. "It's just that Soojung likes you, and I--"

"Thanks," Minseok cuts in. His eyes are particularly feline in this light,and his voice is a degree more gentle than it was before. "I'll take you up on that."

They smoke in silence for a few more minutes, the night air clouding with the filmy exhaust of their cigarettes. When Minseok stubs his out, Luhan does the same. Then he loops his arm around Minseok's waist, the way the latter had done before they'd left the apartment.

Minseok leans into the touch. "It's weird," he observes, "that we didn't know each other two months ago."

"Really weird," Luhan concedes, slightly buzzed from the wine and only half-aware that something has lifted between them. "Glad it's two months later."

 

 

In the days leading up to Hong Kong, dinner at Luhan's becomes a regular thing. Every two nights, Minseok will show up with something to add to the table. Wine, soju, beer. A floury baguette wrapped in paper. A bag of fresh fruit.

Sometimes Soojung joins them,and the conversation flows like blood through veins. At around midnight, Minseok will excuse himself to give the couple their space. But not before Luhan extracts a promise from him to work out or play a one-on-one football match the following day.

Other times, when Soojung is filming her sageuk and can't make it, Luhan will chat idly with Minseok until the wee hours of the morning. The ice in their light beers will crackle and melt, diluting the pale gold, as they discuss their childhood dreams and the trajectory of their careers. They recount their upward climb in show business, the slow decline of some of their peers, and the fear that they might someday be in the same boat. They joke about their management--YG for Minseok, SME for Luhan--and how both companies have long given up on damage control when it comes to their love lives.

Luhan tells him more about cute, candid Yixing, and Jongin, the favored hoobae. "Jongin is  _Kai?_ " his companion asks incredulously. "That kid runs wild."

In turn, Minseok tells Luhan about his younger sister, a college sophomore named Minsun whose smile is the exact replica of his.

"Keep that to yourself," Minseok adds after a brief lull. "I've never told any of the media outlets what her name is. To protect her."

"They won't hear it from me," Luhan swears, taking a gulp of watered-down Pilsen.

He doesn't even tell Soojung.

"So I hear you've been spending a lot of time with Leo." It's noisy in this hole-in-the-wall chimek joint, but the foreign name is hard to miss as it leaves Jongin's mouth.

"What?" Luhan's eyebrows merge. "You've lost me."

"Isn't that what they call Kim Minseok?" The rockstar's face drips with mischief. "Asia's Leonardo DiCaprio."

"Jongin, sometimes I think you make this shit up."

"I'm serious," Jongin protests, scraping his fingers through platinum blond hair. His concept for his latest album makes him look like a mad scientist: short, straw-like locks sticking out in every direction. "Think about it, hyung. All those articles about 'Minseok Mania.' All those movies where his characters die. All those  _models._ "

Luhan opens his mouth, then closes it again. "Point taken," he mutters.

"So?" Jongin presses. "Have you replaced me or what?" He's wearing eyeliner today, and it makes his puppy eyes look sharper than they actually are. "All Dispatch talks about is this brewing bromance between you two. And I haven't seen you in a month."

"Don't be jealous, Jonginnie. It doesn't suit you." Luhan ruffles his hair, and the younger man snorts. "Since when have you read Dispatch?"

"Tabloids are fascinating." Jongin takes a piece of chicken skin between his fingers and pops it into his mouth. "Horrible, but fascinating. A lot of times it's all bullshit, of course, but sometimes they really get the story spot on." His eyebrows shoot up. "They have eyes  _everywhere_ , hyung. It's freaky."

"As if you care," Luhan says. "You do whatever you want. Minseok thinks you're as wild as I do, and I haven't told him half the shenanigans you've gotten up to."

"I'm just being myself," Jongin declares. There's that smirk again. "And you can tell your Minseok I said so."

"Minseok- _hyung,_  you awful brat." Luhan's laughter is incredulous as he tosses a crumpled napkin in Jongin's face, as usual. He leaves the "your" alone. "Come on. You pull the prettiest girls out of the audience at your concerts and all but shove your tongue down their throats. By the time they leave the stage, they're more or less pregnant." Here, a shake of the head. "You dive into the crowd with your butt crack hanging out and you  _keep on doing it_ even though you know the die-hards will be shoving their underwear into your back pockets. That is so unsanitary, Jongin." Luhan wrinkles his nose. "And then there was that incident in your van yesterday…"

"Look who's been reading Dispatch now," Jongin says under his breath. His tone is a bit off, but Luhan ignores it in favor of continuing his train of thought.

"You haven't told me what that was about, by the way." The actor purses his lips. "I just saw the photos of Soo getting into your van and then clambering out twenty seconds later, beet-red in the face. What the hell were you doing in there that got him all flustered?" Another idea occurs to him. "Or  _who?_ "

The paparazzi shots, taken at close range, show Kyungsoo posted outside Jongin's white Hyundai, celebrity-grade tint in its windows. He seems almost like he's keeping watch, wide eyes staring straight ahead and his entire face a strange, bright pink under the sunlight. Ten minutes later (according to Dispatch's timer), Jongin calls him back in. Jongin's closeup as he rolls down the window and sticks out his bleach-blond head is unmistakeable. Kyungsoo does not turn to look at him. Jongin cranes further out the window so the tops of his shoulders can be seen, and in the photos, it's clear he's shirtless.

 _Manager stands guard during Kai's rendezvous,_ the headline reads.  _Who is in the car with Kai?_

Jongin shrugs, and Luhan sees it now--the slight downward turn of his junior's lips, the way he's pushing bits of chicken around his plate with his chopsticks. He's pouting.

"Jongin?"

"There was nobody else in there." Jongin glances at him. "Just me."

Luhan uses a more careful tone this time, demonstratively brushing a hair from Jongin's threadbare tee. "So what was up with Soo?"

"I kissed him."

Of all the things he thought Jongin would say, this wasn't one of them. "Okay," Luhan says. "Okay." He licks the corner of his mouth, tongue worrying at a dry sliver of skin. He keeps his voice very, very even. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I felt like it," Jongin answers.

"Are you…" The words catch in Luhan's throat.

"I don't know," Jongin says matter-of-factly. "That's the first time I've ever wanted to kiss a guy before."

"So you like Kyungsoo…like that?" Luhan thinks of the way Jongin speaks to his manager, discreet and attentive, boxing out everything else. The little touches to Kyungsoo's hair, Kyungsoo's wrist--not enough to raise suspicion, but not quite harmless, either.

"I don't know," Jongin says again. "Maybe. I don't even know if he has a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. I don't want to know." He fiddles with the hem of his shirt. "What does it mean if I like girls, but I don't want Kyungsoo to like anyone else except me?"

"Well." Luhan clears his throat. "I don't know either." Jongin expels a weak puff of air. Luhan perseveres. "Whatever it means, it's fine, Jongin." He smooths over the tangle atop Jongin's head. "It's totally fine with me, who you like. Doesn't change a thing."

That helps. Jongin flashes an easy smile, all brotherly love and beautiful teeth. "Cool."

"As long as it's not Soojung," Luhan amends.

"Still sore about that, hyung?" the younger says casually. "We were eighteen, and it was just a date."

"That's one date too many." Luhan flicks him on the forehead, and Jongin yelps, pulling back. "Did you kiss her?"

Jongin rubs at the tender spot, more alert now. "What did Soojung say?"

"She said she doesn't remember," Luhan says promptly. "Did you kiss her, Jongin?"

"I don't remember." This time, the smile that curves across his face is devious.

"You little--" Luhan reaches across the table and fists the low-slung neckline of Jongin's tee. "Did you or didn't you?"

To his surprise, Jongin jerks forward as if to kiss him. Luhan pushes him back roughly, retreating into his own chair. A few of the other patrons regard them with interest.

The peal of laughter that escapes Jongin's throat is grating. "What's the matter, hyung?" he asks in a feeble attempt at guilelessness. "I thought you were cool with the whole guy-on-guy thing."

Luhan kicks him under the table. "You stick to Soo."

"And you stick to Minseok-hyung," Jongin ripostes, emphasizing the honorific. He takes a swig of his Hite and winks.

Luhan's so used to it by now, he doesn't skip a beat. He's curious about something else. "What did Soo say," he ventures, "when you kissed him?"

"Nothing. He just pulled away and bolted," Jongin says. "You saw the pictures. He stood outside the van like he was waiting for something to pass--like a  _phase,_  or something. I kept texting him to come back in, but he wouldn't check his phone. So I poked my head out and, you know," Jongin gestures vaguely. "I said I was sorry and that I wouldn't do it again and that it was an accident."

"Did you mean that?" Luhan takes the last bite of his chicken breast.

"No," Jongin admits. "I have no idea what I'm doing. I just don't want him to act differently around me."

"Has he been?"

"He won't look me in the eye." Jongin scratches at his temple. His gaze fixates on something behind Luhan. "See? Look at him, hyung."

Luhan turns in his seat. Kyungsoo is standing outside the entrance of the restaurant, shifting uncertainly from foot to foot. He's partially obscured by the "Chicken + Beer" lettered in hangul across the glass front window, but Luhan can tell he's looking at them. The actor raises his hand in greeting, and Kyungsoo swiftly dips his head in response. Then his eyes drift, presumably to glance at Jongin,and his whole countenance freezes. Suddenly, the manager is looking down, typing something into his smartphone.

Jongin's buzzes on the table. "He just texted that I'm wanted at the agency," the rockstar says, picking up the device. "He won't even come in to tell me himself." He looks frustrated. "I'm gonna call him."

"You do that." Luhan pushes his seat back. "Iron it out. I'll be taking a leak."

He has to canvass the chimaek joint to spot the toilet's signage, which is as tiny and inconspicuous as the restaurant itself. He only catches a snippet of Jongin's phone conversation before he makes a beeline for the right door.

"Soo. Please," Jongin says. His voice is quiet, but there's a sense of urgency to it. "You don't have to be afraid of me."

 

 

 _Days of Abandon_ begins its live shoots three months after the first read-through.

Minseokand Luhan are scheduled to film in Hong Kong for four weeks. Yixing informs Luhan it's likely they will extend to six due to Gu PD's infamous obsessive-compulsiveness. His actors often end up filming simple scenes over and over again for days, because the director doesn't think the natural light or the color of a couch or the  _feeling_ is quite right.

"Already cleared it with the boss," Yixing shares brightly. He means the head of SME, who happens to love Luhan, as all CEOs love their biggest star.

"Fine with me," the actor says. "I don't mind staying in Hong Kong a little longer." He's worked with less pleasant directors than Gu PD before, and a little OCD won't take the fun out of filming with Minseok.

He's pleased to discover that the other feels the same way.

"Let's press for six weeks," Minseok says as they climb into the luxury car waiting for them at the airport. He speaks in a regular tone of voice, as though there isn't a swarm of fans screaming outside the vehicle. "I've only been here to attend premieres and store openings. Never stayed long enough to explore. Have you?"

"Nope," Luhan says, sliding off his sunglasses and running a hand through his hair. "Count me in on the exploration." The way Minseok looks at him like he's his closest friend in the world right now makes Luhan's insides warm.

Hong Kong in July is hot and wet. Its streets are noisy with the sounds of life and neon with blinking electric signage. Its buildings race endlessly towards the sky--just like in Seoul or Beijing, Luhan thinks, except Hong Kong still feels mysterious in a way his two hometowns no longer are.

The first scene they film is, coincidentally, the reunion between Zhao and Song Joon. Gu PD rolls the cameras late that same night they arrive, when the crowds have gone home and the two wildly-popular leading men can do their jobs in peace.

The reunion takes place thirteen years after their high school graduation, in the Citysuper in Times Square. Song Joon is buying bread--a light, lonely dinner for one--and Zhao has just walked in from another part of the supermarket, arms laden with groceries.

"How've you been?" Zhao asks once they've gotten the greetings out of the way.

"Not too bad." Song Joon's smile is ironic, so the audience knows he's not quite telling the whole story. "And you?"

"I got married three years ago." Zhao shifts his weight to one foot, looking at the ground before meeting Song Joon's eyes again. His own eyes flash with a sudden openness. "My wife is cheating on me."

"How do you know?" Song Joon asks, after a long, measured moment.

"I heard them," Zhao says. "In our bedroom, one afternoon when I got home early from work. There was a man's voice, and she was moaning. I didn't know what to do, so I walked out and did the groceries instead. When I came back, she was waiting for me, like she is every night, with dinner on the table and a kiss for my cheek." He tightens his hold on the paper bags in his grasp. "It's a peculiar reaction, isn't it? Most guys would have stormed in and…"

"You were never like most guys," Song Joon says simply. "Not in high school. I guess not even now."

Zhao blinks, and his smile is not really a smile, more like a softening at the corners of his drawn mouth.

"You're doing your groceries today," Song Joon muses, like he's trying to put together a puzzle. He thinks better of it, and says, "I'm sorry, it's none of my business."

"They're in my house. In my bed." Zhao doesn't break eye contact. "It was loud, so I left. That was six hours ago."

"Would you like to go for a drink?" Song Joon swallows gently, and his Adam's apple bobs. "For old time's sake? But only if you'd like some company."

"Yes," Zhao replies, and he places his groceries on the floor by the entrance of the bakery, where he will leave them. "A drink and a friend. Sounds good to me."

" _Cut!_ " Gu PD calls out. He finally looks satisfied. It has, after all, been seven takes, and the time on Luhan's wristwatch, when he consults it, reads two AM.

"Minseok-ah," he says, as the process of packing up equipment hustles and bustles around them. "Let's get a drink for real. We don't have to be up until eight."

Minseok looks mildly scandalized. "I love how you say it like six hours--less than that, really--is enough time for a guy to get a good night's rest."

"Come on," Luhan whines, going for full-on, Jongin-level aegyo. "You don't need beauty sleep." He tugs on Minseok's forearm and knows, just by the give in it, that he's already won. He wonders at the odd sensation it leaves in his chest, even as he teases, "You're beautiful just the way you--"

"Shut up, Lu," Minseok replies, dark eyes dancing. There's annoyance in his gaze, but affection, too, thinly-veiled and, somehow, attractive. "We'll drink in my room. Yours is a pigsty."


	2. Chapter 2

In total, there are thirty-six people on location in Hong Kong for the filming of  _Days of Abandon_. Eighteen crew members (including Gu PD), six actors (not including the Chinese model with no lines who stands in as Zhao's wife), and the traveling band of managers and stylists--all billeted in a swanky boutique hotel in Kowloon.  
  
There are thirty-six people--all friendly, gracious, and quick to the bottle after a long day of filming. But somehow, Luhan manages to spend all of his time with Minseok, whether or not they're working.  
  
They don't drink every night. They can't pull it off, not with the diets and Gu PD's insistence that their jawlines slice across the camera screen in precise right angles. But their nights are always spent in each other's company, in Luhan's hotel room or in Minseok's, where all they do, until they fall asleep in one of their beds, is talk. Their rooms, as it happens, are right next door to one another.  
  
Luhan learns that Kim Minseok the sex symbol is not quite what the magazines make him out to be. In every photo shoot, the shape of his lips and the expression in his eyes are just as suggestive as bad boy Kai's, albeit more weighted (Luhan chalks it up to age). But in real life, the lazy hang of Minseok's mouth when he's trying to concentrate on something is more comical than it is sensual, and the way his eyes disappear into his lids when he's engaged in a particularly raucous bout of laughter is…well, cute.  
  
When Minseok latches onto a topic he particularly likes--like football, for instance, or the intricacies of Italian coffee--he punctuates his sentences with fleeting touches to Luhan's arms. Luhan returns them eagerly and with double the frequency, because he's always been affectionate, and because he likes the way Minseok doesn't let anyone else get away with it (except maybe Gu PD).  
  
Minseok's arms are strong and sculpted underneath the dress shirts the stylists button him into. Luhan used to be surprised, in the early days, when his fingers brushed over them in a show of familiarity, but now he's used to the feeling. He's seen Minseok's bare arms when they work out together in nothing but tank tops and basketball shorts, and they're legit. He's seen Minseok's bare stomach, too--flat and carved with lines--when he does his ab exercises at the gym sans tank.  
  
"I soak a shirt through in minutes," Minseok had admitted once, and Luhan had laughed at the bashful honesty in it.  
  
The thing with Minseok is that he looks good for a guy. Luhan will cop to it--not that lean, solid bodies attached to handsome faces are anything extraordinary in show business. Luhan's maintained a six-pack since he was twenty, after all. The way Soojung traces her hands up and down his chest, his thighs, his ass, when he's got her underneath him lets him know he looks good, too.  
  
It's just…unusual, the way his eyes automatically flick over to observe Minseok when he's talking to someone else. Minseok gestures with his left hand a lot, the right one balanced on his hipbone, and he's always smiling. His gums look very clean.  
  
Luhan doesn't know how he manages to pick up on these little details. He's never paid this much attention to a man before. Not even Jongin--and for all intents and purposes, Jongin is his best friend.  
  
"Hey, is anything the matter?" Minseok asks, nine days into filming. They're sneaking a milk tea together in between scenes on a side street in Tsim Sha Tsui. Gu PD is mapping out the next scene with his cinematographer, waiting for the right moment when the location looks crowded "but not too crowded." It's sweltering hot in this district, and the fragrant steam of  _xiao long bao,_  while delicious, makes the air feel two inches thicker.  
  
Luhan hums, bemused. "What do you mean?" He puts up a hand to shade his eyes from the sun.  
  
"You've been staring at me." Minseok tells him comfortably. His expression is inquisitive, and his voice is a bit hoarse with fatigue. They've slept for a grand total of two hours between today and yesterday. "I thought you might've wanted to talk to me about something."  
  
Luhan stops short. He didn't realize he was being so obvious. "No, it's nothing," he replies, discomfited. It doesn't occur to him to deny it. "Sorry, I don't know why I keep doing that."  
  
"I don't mind," Minseok says, taking a sip of tea through the straw and holding it out for Luhan to do the same. "Are you a method actor?" He uses the English term for it, accent smooth and flawless, like the skin on his neck.  
  
Details, again. Luhan frowns. "Not really. Why do you ask?" And then, as a follow-up, "Are you?"  
  
"Nah." Minseok ruffles his hair without warning, and Luhan jumps a little at the touch. The other actor suppresses a laugh. "I guess it would just explain a lot, if you were. Or if  _I_  were."  
  
For the second time that same minute, Luhan blinks in confusion and asks, "What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean, it would explain why you keep looking at me like you're in character when the cameras aren't rolling. Right?" Minseok wavers for some reason, assuming a lopsided smile. "Or, I guess, why I always notice."  
  
"I must be obsessed with you," Luhan larks, a knee-jerk reaction. He feels a bizarre, prickly warmth tiptoeing up the back of his neck, almost like he's blushing. But that would be ridiculous, so it must be this heat. "Too much time spent with the national heartthrob does that to a person, you know?"  
  
"Oh, yeah?" Minseok says, his tone just as teasing. "Then I must be obsessed with you, too, pretty boy."  
  
A brief silence wedges itself between them, until Luhan makes a retching sound, like he's disgusted with the pair of them. They both laugh it off, and leave it at that.  
  
Bending forward, Minseok takes the straw in the milk tea cup back into his mouth, hooking it with his tongue when the plastic cylinder rolls out of reach.  
  
Luhan catches the movement on the tail-end of a chuckle. He watches carefully, mirth petering out, without understanding in the least what has come over him.  
  
  
  
  
Soojung calls on the twelfth day from somewhere in Gyeonggi-do, where her sageuk has been filming. She and Luhan have exchanged six Line messages since he arrived in Hong Kong, three of them from the afternoon he landed. They've both been busy.  
  
"Oppa, remember me?" Soojung's voice is bright and melodic, as always.  
  
"I remember this really cute girl," he tells her smoothly. "What have you been up to?"  
  
"Business as usual," she says. "Wigs and robes and court intrigue." In a softer voice, she tacks on, "Hey, I miss you."  
  
A wave of voices swells in the background, cooing  _ooh_ and _is that Luhan?_  and  _love you~_! Luhan huffs through his nostrils. The whole of Korea knows about them.  
  
"Guys." Soojung's voice is directed away from the phone. "He can  _hear_ you."  
  
Miles away, Luhan is back in his hotel room for the night, sprawled out on his back on the queen-sized bed. Minseok has just walked in from the in-suite bathroom. He plops into a chair next to the bed, scrolling through his iPad.  
  
"Sorry about that, oppa," Soojung says on the other end of the line.  
  
"No worries, beautiful," Luhan murmurs, and Minseok looks up from whatever he's perusing.  
  
_Soojung?_  he mouths.  
  
When Luhan nods, Minseok signals that he's going to leave, but Luhan shakes his head and makes him sit back down. "Your favorite's here," he says into the phone. "Your Minseok-sunbae." It feels like he's revealing a secret.  
  
"Hi sunbae," Soojung says, even though she's not on speakerphone. "Hope you're having a good time with my boyfriend."  
  
It's meant to be cheeky, really, but Luhan just passes on the message as is. "Hi sunbae," he recites, catching Minseok's eye and holding it. "Hope you're having a good time with my boyfriend."  
  
"I am," Minseok answers, not looking away, and there's a faint, instinctual tug somewhere inside Luhan. He could almost swear that the words are meant for him, not Soojung.  
  
But then Minseok is swiftly, subtly, changing expressions, and he repeats his answer with a minor adjustment. "I am, Soojung!" he calls out, livelier this time. His smile is unreadable. He drops his gaze back down to the tablet in his hands, deftly flicking his finger up the screen.  
  
Luhan is still watching him when Soojung's voice trickles, fuzzy, into his ear. "Oppa, did you hear me?"  
  
"Sorry, what?" Luhan turns his attention back to the call, angling his face away from Minseok so he can train his eyes on the ceiling. "What did you say?"  
  
"I asked if it was it okay for me to come visit you on set," Soojung replies patiently.  
  
"Of course it's okay." Luhan doesn't give it a second thought. "Come to Hong Kong. Let me see you."  
  
He can hear the smile in her voice. "Okay, then. I will."  
  
They iron out the details of Soojung's visit for the next half hour. It's only after, when Luhan has bid her goodnight and Soojung has given him a shy "I love you" to conclude the call that Minseok finally looks up from his iPad.  
  
"Lu," he says without preamble. "There's an article here about your friend Kai."  
  
"Jongin?" Luhan purses his lips and reaches for the tablet. He doesn't think there's anything he and Minseok need to discuss, anyway. "What does it say?"  
  
It only takes a few seconds for him to read the headline.  _Kai involved in Hongdae bar fight._  It's Dispatch reporting, of course. _Young rocker submits to questioning by police on the incident._  
  
"Shit, Jongin," Luhan mutters under his breath. He scans through the story, which offers few details aside from claims by a handful of witnesses that Jongin hadn't started the fight.  
  
"He wasn't arrested," Minseok puts in gently. "Just questioned."  
  
"Right," Luhan says, already reading the article over. For all of Jongin's wildness, this is his first scandal involving the authorities. Luhan already knows it's going to blow up.  
  
His smartphone is still in his hand, so his first instinct is give Jongin a call. He doesn't pick up. Luhan calls again immediately after the line goes dead. Still no answer.  
  
"He'll be okay," Minseok says, just as gently, shifting forward in his chair so he can touch Luhan's knee with his fingertips. "He didn't start the fight. And if the other party decides to press charges, your agency's got a topnotch team of lawyers, just like mine."  
  
Luhan looks in his direction, nodding, but only half-convinced. This day had started out on such a pleasant, unremarkable note. It was only three hours ago that he and Minseok were deep in conversation in front of a camera in a quiet pub, fully immersed in Wu Zhao and Park Song Joon's lives; only thirty minutes ago that they were discussing what movie they were going to watch on pay per view tonight, right before Soojung's call; and only three minutes ago that the fragile, exhilarating imbalance in their  _relationship_ seemed like the most important thing in the real world.  
  
When Luhan goes to bed that night--Minseok already tucked up in his own next door--the Chinese actor receives two text messages within minutes of each other.  
  
The first is from Soojung.  _See you in a few weeks, oppa. I'm so excited!_  
  
Luhan quickly types,  _Me, too, Sooj,_ and sends her a smiley face before moving on to the next message.  
  
It's from Jongin.  
  
_Hyung, I'm all right. Talk soon. Just don't feel like it now._  
  
It's missing all the usual emojis and exclamation marks. Luhan can already imagine the flat tone of voice Jongin uses when he's upset about something and not in the mood to do anything else but wallow.  
  
_Hang in there, Jonginnie. Call me when you feel like it,_ Luhan replies, wanting to say more, but well-aware Jongin will shut him down if he pushes too much. He types, _I'm not worried about you,_ even though he is.  
  
  
  
  
A week after Jongin's scandal breaks, Gu PD flies back to Seoul to attend his daughter's 30th birthday party. He has Luhan and Minseok sign a card, which he attaches to a flat, glossy box containing a dress from Shanghai Tang ("The card's the real gift," the director jokes).  
  
Everyone gets the day off.  
  
"Finally," Luhan says over a brunch at the hotel. "After almost three weeks in this city we finally have time to explore it."  
  
"Can't believe it's only been that long," Minseok muses, the rim of his coffee cup pressed between his lips.  
  
"Can't believe it's  _already_ been that long." Luhan swallows a mouthful of scrambled eggs. "What would you like to see first?"  
  
Minseok lights up. "The Tian Tan Buddha. Have you heard about it? It's this colossal statue of a Buddha Amoghasiddhi sitting on top of a hill in Lantau Island--all majestic and mysterious, like it's the king of the land." He laughs, sounding embarrassed but also excited. "I saw it on a travel show once. And we can take a cable car to get there."  
  
"Cable car," Luhan says slowly. "Is there no other way to access it?"  
  
"I'm not sure." Minseok smile dips momentarily. "Do you…is there something else you wanted to see?"  
  
"No, no, it's not that." Luhan swallows, even though there's nothing left in his throat. "It's just that I'm, uh…well, cable cars…"  
  
"Oh," Minseok says suddenly, and his smile pulls back up, soft and comprehending. It makes Luhan's stomach flip, just a little. "Are you afraid of heights?"  
  
"No," the other declares instantly. Minseok's smile widens, showing his pretty teeth, and just like that, Luhan retracts his denial. "Yeah." Much too quickly, he adds, "We can take the cable car. It's not a big deal."  
  
Minseok reaches for his smartphone on the table. "I'll check if we can get there by shuttle--"  
  
"No, we're taking the cable car," Luhan interrupts. He refuses to look weak in front of Minseok. The thought of it is probably what's causing the uncomfortable lurch in his gut. He snatches Minseok's phone out of his hands. "We're taking it. I'll reserve the tickets."  
  
Minseok's eyes turn playful, but he doesn't say a word. He only closes his fist around the empty space where his phone had been and tucks it under his chin, watching Luhan tap the dragonglass screen with purpose. Luhan can feel the heat of his gaze, but he doesn't look up. They are taking this damn cable car, even if he has to close his eyes during the whole ordeal.  
  
That's exactly what he's doing, two hours later, when he finds himself seated across from Minseok in their very own gondola. Luhan had strategically chosen the cable car  _without_ the see-through floor--he curls his toes inside his shoes, just thinking about the drop. Still, all four sides of the compartment are made of plexiglass, providing a crystal-clear, 360-degree view that Luhan really,  _really_ doesn't need right now.  
  
Through the slits he permits between his eyelids, he can make out the tops of so many trees, swaying in the wind and so far below them, and the slopes of Lantau Island, green and brown, rising and falling.  
  
The woman at the ticket booth in Tung Chung had told them, when they'd picked up their stubs for the cable car, that the ride would take twenty-five minutes. They're only ten minutes in, and for Luhan, it's been an exercise in torture.  
  
He only kind of, sort of, opens his eyes when he feels Minseok hook their ankles together.  
  
"Lu," Minseok says. There's no trace of mocking in his voice. "Don't be scared."  
  
"I lied," Luhan mutters. "I'm terrified of heights. It's a really big deal."  
  
"I can tell," Minseok says, in the same non-judgmental tone, and he scoots forward carefully so their knees touch. It makes Luhan feel better, in a way, even as Minseok quietly reproves him. "Why did you push it if you knew this was going to happen?"  
  
"I don't know," Luhan groans. "I guess," it just slips out, "I guess I just wanted to impress you."  
  
His eyes spring wide open at that, mouth agape at the strangeness of what he's just admitted. He scrambles for an excuse, but Minseok's already speaking.  
  
"I always want to impress you," Minseok tells him quietly. "I don't know why, but I do." He places his hand on top of Luhan's, which is balled into a fist in the center of his thigh. It seems involuntary, almost, the way Luhan's fingers uncurl, his fingernails retracting from the furrows they've left in his palm.  
  
"Don't be scared," Minseok says again, and his voice is strong and steady, like the expression in his eyes. "You're safe."  
  
What Luhan reads in Minseok's gaze, making his heart skip a bewildering beat, even though he's convinced it's because the cable car has picked up speed, is  _you're safe with me._  
  
  
  
  
The Tian Tan Buddha is magnificent, resting on a lotus throne above a steep stone staircase--all bronze, archaic splendor. Magnificent, Luhan thinks, and at the same time, a complete blur.  
  
They have to walk through Ngong Ping Village, a small tourist enclave with a Starbucks and shops to buy souvenirs, and then onwards still, through a bit of nature, to get to the foot of the staircase. All 268 steps of it.  
  
They climb up slowly, adjusting their masks and sunglasses carefully over their faces so they don't give themselves away. Luhan keeps his head down, watching his feet, and Minseok keeps his eyes trained on the Buddha and his hand at his side, where it brushes gently against Luhan's knuckles every so often as they move up and up and up.  
  
It's a blur, this enigmatic, ten-storey statue watching over an island, because when they get to the top, and they crane their necks back as far as they will go to see the Buddha's face, Minseok suddenly leans over and murmurs, "It was worth it, right?" Luhan can't stop the peculiar lump from lodging in his throat, or his hand from splaying out on the small of Minseok's back in lieu of a proper response.  
  
The cable car ride back to Tung Chung is not as frightening as the one they'd taken to see the Buddha, because Minseok leans forward and laces their fingers together the moment they settle into the gondola. He fits a knee between Luhan's two, saying, "Thanks for coming with me, Lu," like it's completely natural for two straight men to be holding hands inside a space as tiny is this one and talking as intimately as Minseok is talking to him. Luhan can feel his breath on the apples of his cheeks, and he watches the shape of Minseok's mouth and listens to the soft sounds of the small talk Minseok makes to distract him when the cable car starts to move.  
  
"You're welcome, Minseok-ah," Luhan says, sometime in the middle of the ride, and he looks away when Minseok's honeyed gaze sends his stomach into knots.  
  
  
  
  
"Kyungsoo called for you," Yixing says when Luhan gets back to the hotel. He's been having coffee in the lobby with Chanyeol, Minseok's ridiculously tall manager, whom all the unmarried stylists have simultaneously called dibs on. "I told him you were out site-seeing, and he said he'd call again."  
  
Minseok excuses himself, clapping Yixing on the back and cheerfully calling out "Yeol!" to catch his manager's attention. Chanyeol waves, getting up from the circle of sharply-dressed girls who chatter around him, but Minseok just gives him an amused shake of the head and strides towards the elevators on his own. Briefly, the actor looks over his shoulder to shoot Luhan an easy smile. It says they'll see each other later.  
  
Luhan lifts his eyebrows at him, smiling in turn, and Minseok slips into an elevator and out of sight.  
  
"Soo?" Luhan turns his attention back to Yixing. "He has my number. Why didn't he call me?"  
  
"You know how he is," Yixing says, dimpling, and Luhan already gets it. "So shy."  
  
Back in his room, after he's had a quick shower and mulled over a light beer from the mini bar (he puts it back with a sigh), Luhan calls Kyungsoo back.  
  
The line only rings once.  
  
"Luhan-sshi?"  
  
"Hey, Soo." Luhan plops down onto his bed. "What'd I tell you about honorifics?"  
  
"I'm sorry," the manager says. "I'm sorry for calling, Luhan, but I, I just--" He's tripping over his words in his rush to get them out, and it makes Luhan frown.  
  
"Is something wrong? Yixing said you called earlier..."  
  
"Have you heard from Jongin?" Kyungsoo asks. "It's just that he hasn't answered any of my messages, and he won't pick up his phone, and I'm worried about him, because he hasn't spoken to me since the scandal broke out--"  
  
"Whoa, whoa," Luhan cuts in. "Slow down. You haven't heard from Jongin in a week?" In the world of actor-manager relationships, that might as well be a month.  
  
"The last time I saw him was the night of the fight," Kyungsoo answers. "I've been checking on him every day since then, but he won't let me through." He's struggling to keep his voice steady, but it's not working.  
  
Luhan slips into the most soothing tone in his repertoire. "He replied to a text I sent him the day Dispatch posted their story. Said he was all right. You know how he gets, Soo."  
  
"Yes," Kyungsoo says quietly. "I do."  
  
"What happened in Hongdae?" Luhan asks carefully, like the words are made of something fragile. "He must have told you, before he spoke to the cops."  
  
"I was there." Kyungsoo tells him. "I was there when he punched that guy."  
  
Luhan presses his lips together. So Dispatch had been right, after all. "What happened, Soo?"  
  
"He called me a…a name," Kyungsoo mutters. "That guy. He called me something awful, because I kissed a man outside that bar. I was already drunk by then, and I'd called Jongin, because…" He clears his throat. "I'd called Jongin. And he'd just come to pick me up, when…"  
  
Luhan waits.  
  
"I saw Jongin's face when he said it, and Jongin looked so angry. But he just put me in the front seat of his car, and he was walking over to his side when that guy shoved him from behind. He kept shoving him, harder and harder; kept saying, 'Such a shame, for a rocker to keep company with a faggot.' And that's when Jongin whirled around and socked him in the face." The line goes silent for a moment. Then Kyungsoo sighs. "He dropped me off at my apartment before he went to the station. Didn't say a word on the ride over, and I haven't heard a word from him since."  
  
It all makes more sense now, at least to Luhan. But first, he asks, "Soo, are  _you_ all right?"  
  
"I'm fine," Kyungsoo says without hesitation. "I'm sorry to unload all this on you. You and me, we aren't even…"  
  
"We're friends," Luhan states, putting finality in his tone. "It's not a big deal if you want to kiss men. Who cares? You're my friend, and if I was in Jongin's shoes, I would have punched that asshole, too."  
  
"Thank you, Luhan," Kyungsoo murmurs, and Luhan can detect the surprise and  _gratefulness_ in it. "You really are a prince, after all."  
  
Luhan snorts. "Don't start with that nonsense." When Kyungsoo manages a weak chuckle, Luhan feels a flicker of satisfaction. He darts out his tongue to moisten his lips. "I hope you don't mind me asking, Soo, but the man you kissed--was he your boyfriend?"  
  
"No, nothing like that." Kyungsoo's voice is levelled. "I was just drunk, and lonely, and he was there."  
  
"That's good to know," Luhan says decidedly, "because I think Jongin might be a little lovesick over you."  
  
The sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line tells him everything he needs to know. " _What?_ "  
  
"He kissed you, didn't he?"  
  
"Yes, but he said…" Kyungsoo breathes out. "I thought he was just fooling around."  
  
Typical Kyungsoo. Always underestimating himself.  
  
"Take it from me." And Luhan leans back into his pillows. "He's my best friend, and I've seen the way he acts around you. He's serious about you--he's as good as told me so."  
  
"Why me?" It's wonder this time, and hope, that Luhan hears in the question.  
  
"You're the one he wants. Simple as that," Luhan replies. "Don't you like him, Soo?"  
  
Kyungsoo makes a sound of disbelief. "Me?" He laughs a little, and it's rough around the edges. "Of course I do. I've liked him for so long. How could I not? He's so," this part is mumbled, "so good to me."  
  
The image of Minseok's fingers twined in his own, so far above the ground, comes unbidden to Luhan's mind. "I'll bet you that if you text him that, you'll hear back from him in a heartbeat." Luhan shuts his eyes, trying to block off his errant thoughts. "He's probably just jealous of that guy you were making out with."  
  
"I wasn't making out with him," Kyungsoo protests. "It was only a kiss. I was so drunk, and I just wanted a distraction from...that other kiss."  
  
"You're cute," Luhan puts in. "But you know just as much as I do that Jongin's the territorial type. You kissing that guy is probably plaguing him more than his own scandal is."  
  
"Oh, god," Kyungsoo murmurs. "It was all my fault, wasn't it?"  
  
"Don't," Luhan rebuts him firmly. "Jongin threw the punch, not you--he's always been impulsive. And that other guy was the one who hurled the slur and ticked the kid off in the first place. So don't blame yourself. Just…" Luhan chuckles, in spite of himself, feeling somewhat frustrated with the pair of them. "Just tell Jongin how you feel, will you? You're just chasing each other in the wrong direction."  
  
"All right, I'll tell him." Kyungsoo finally sounds confident. "I'll tell him the kiss meant nothing--"  
  
"And that he means everything." A tease winds itself through Luhan's voice, light and jovial.  
  
"That, too, of course," Kyungsoo says seriously.  
  
It dispels Luhan's joking mood, because he is so struck by the other's conviction. He feels self-conscious, almost, in the face of it.  
  
An hour later, when he's tired of scrolling aimlessly through Weibo and Instagram, trying to pass the time and tamp down an odd sense of longing his conversation with Kyungsoo had left behind, Luhan finds himself knocking on Minseok's door.  
  
The man opens it looking sleepy, his hair messed up and his lips puffy. "Hey," Minseok greets him, voice huskier than usual. "I was trying to take a nap." He doesn't give Luhan a chance to speak before he continues, "Do you feel like one?"  
  
"Sure," Luhan says, after a beat, knowing full well that he has a perfectly usable bed in his own room. "A nap sounds great."  
  
Minseok lets him in then, and Luhan takes the side of the bed that hasn't been slept in. Minseok climbs in, too, lying on his side so his back is to Luhan. He says, "Wake me up when you want to go have something to eat."  
  
Luhan only hums in response, taking note of the milky skin on the back of Minseok's neck and reasoning with himself that friends take naps like this all the time.  
  
Don't they?  
  
  
  
  
When Gu PD gets back from Seoul, he's already decided to film the kissing scene next.  
  
"The love scene, too," the director ventures calmly, looking between Luhan and Minseok for any sign of resistance and finding none. "If you can call it that."  
  
Following their run-in at the supermarket, Wu Zhao and Park Song Joon see each other almost every day. There is an undeniable spark of attraction between them, even though Zhao has only been with women before, and Song Joon knows this perfectly well. They meet for coffee in the middle of the day, or drinks after work, or meals in Zhao's apartment when his wife is at her lover's. Zhao speaks of leaving her, moving out of their home, and starting afresh in a city where nobody knows who he is. Song Joon listens, and nods, and casually wipes the bow of Zhao's lips with his thumb when beer foam catches on it, sucking the digit clean right after.  
  
Their love scene is not really a love scene. It happens in the bathroom, behind a closed door, after Zhao flees from the kiss he's initiated. All it is, really, is a series of noises. The script notes describe how the camera will focus first on the doorknob, as it clicks to lock. Then it will pull back, further and further away, as the sounds of sex and pleasure and things falling over in the heat of both emanate through the door.  
  
"You ready to do this?" Yixing asks as a makeup artist touches up Luhan's complexion with a little BB cream.  
  
Minseok is somewhere nearby, getting the same treatment, but Luhan doesn't want to speak with him before this scene. It would, in his opinion, feel much too intimate.  
  
"Sure," he tells Yixing, with calculated nonchalance. "It's just a kiss. A little moaning. I won't even have to take my shirt off. Nothing to it."  
  
He turns to look at Yixing when the makeup artist releases him, and he's surprised by the speculative expression on his manager's face.  
  
But all Yixing says in return is, "I'll take your word for it." Then he heads to the corner where Chanyeol and all the other managers are standing.  
  
They're in an actual apartment building, not a set, inside a flat owned by a friend of Gu PD's. The leather couch Minseok is sitting on, waiting for Luhan to come sit by him, has been deemed acceptable even by the director's standards.  
  
"Hey." Minseok's got his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and he releases it when Luhan smiles at him. "Here we go."  
  
"I might have to kiss you a little harder than I would a woman," Luhan says coolly, as if he doesn't feel the heat tingling over his nape. "Director's orders."  
  
"I can handle it," Minseok replies, looking him straight in the eye, and Luhan has to feign an outfit adjustment to break eye contact.  
  
He's learned that with Minseok, and this taut, delicate thing ballooning between them, he can never really win.  
  
"Quiet on set," Gu PD bellows a moment later, more a formality than a command. Then, " _Action!_ "  
  
Song Joon and Zhao have been discussing love and desire in the past few scenes--how love is always seen as the end-all, be-all, of human existence, and how, in fact, it is just like desire, in that so many times, it is short-lived. They've been skirting around the crux of the matter, which is that they're talking about themselves, and their fear of losing whatever it is that has taken root in their hearts over the course of a few weeks.  
  
Now, in the Wus' living room, silence blossoms like the flowering tea Zhao has set out in his wife's best china.  
  
"Joon," Zhao murmurs, watching the tea leaves unfurl in the hot water. "Do you have someone in Seoul waiting for you?" It's a question he's never asked before. Not even after telling Song Joon the sordid details of his wife's affair, and how they fell out of love six months into the marriage, and how he's never succumbed to the advances of his boss' beautiful secretary.  
  
Song Joon smiles, and everything about it is sad. "I have a fiancée," he replies, tracing his fingertip along the rim of the teacup.  
  
"A woman?" Zhao's face remains neutral, but the muscles in his neck strain against the skin. "But you're…"  
  
"Yes. I am." Song Joon takes a sip of his tea and places the cup down carefully. "It was arranged by our families."  
  
"Are you going to marry her?" Zhao's chest is heaving silently.  
  
"Yes," Song Joon tells him. "I have to." Then he turns his face, eyes reeling in the other's. Bright flame to a fluttering moth.  
  
Zhao's breathing quickens. "I want you," he whispers abruptly. "I want you, but I don't understand it."  
  
Slowly, so slowly, so the audience can see his fingers tremble, Song Joon places the flat of his hand on Zhao's chest, as if to calm him--but it could also be an encouragement. "I know you've never thought of men that way," Song Joon whispers back, and suddenly Luhan is slipping out of character, because Minseok's hand is molten hot over his heart. "You don't have to be anything you don't want to be," Minseok--Song Joon--continues, and his voice is tight, like a wire. "Just let me stay with you."  
  
It feels almost natural, then, for Luhan to slide both his hands up the sides of Minseok's face and pull him forward. Their mouths collide, parted and pliant, and Luhan tilts Minseok's head so he can kiss him deeper. Minseok's hand fists the fabric of his shirt, drawing him close so their chests are flush against each other. The luxurious suction of their lips and the sharp breaths they take in through their nostrils echo in Luhan's ears like music. Minseok's tongue brushes against his tentatively, before pulling back into his own mouth, and that's when Luhan knows, with a heady sort of certainty, that he wants Kim Minseok as much as Zhao wants Song Joon.  
  
Then he pulls away, because that's what it says to do in the script, and he walks off-camera, presumably towards the bathroom. "Oh, god," he mutters, and he doesn't know who's saying it--him, or his character.  
  
" _Cut!_ " Gu PD yells, and he looks thoroughly impressed. "I really liked that one, guys! Let's go straight to the next scene before you lose the feeling."  
  
The set reverberates with breathy  _wows_ and low whistles, a smattering of shocked applause. Scrupulous Gu PD rarely accepts the first take as the last. And Luhan should be proud, really, because it means he's done his job well. Except he feels so exposed, and a little drunk, as if his desire has saturated the planes of his face like alcohol flush. He doesn't know how he's going to survive the love scene, even though it's not-quite-that.  
  
A warm hand comes to rest on his shoulder, without warning. When Luhan turns, Minseok's mouth is the first thing he sees. It's swollen from the kiss. Minseok doesn't say a word--only squeezes Luhan's shoulder in a confiding way. His eyes, Luhan notices, are unfocused, and it makes him wonder…  
  
"You okay?" He beats Minseok to it, because he wants to be the one with his wits about him.  
  
"Yeah." Another squeeze, and this time, there are fingers dragging hesitantly across the side of Luhan's neck as Minseok makes a loose fist. "That was good." He clears his throat. "Good scene."  
  
"You ready for this next one?" Rough. That's how Luhan's voice sounds, even to himself.  
  
"Honestly? No." Minseok retracts his hand and pushes it into his pocket. He says, "But I guess we're in this thing together," and Luhan thinks that doesn't sound so bad.  
  
  
  
  
Song Joon follows  Zhao into the bathroom, where the latter is staring at himself in the mirror.  
  
"Are you ashamed?" Song Joon asks quietly. He places his hand on the bathroom counter, right next to Zhao's hip.  
  
Zhao shakes his head resolutely. He turns, letting himself get caged in as Song Joon places his other hand on the counter.  
  
"We won't have many more days like this," Zhao mutters, pressing their foreheads together. "Just you and me. Doing whatever we please."  
  
"You're right." Song Joon has closed his eyes. "I'm sorry I complicated things."  
  
Zhao leans in. "I'm glad you did." Their lips are touching. "I'm glad you complicated things, and shook me up, and taught me how to tell the truth."  
  
"Zhao," Song Joon sighs, and their mouths meet, desperately, this time. And there it is, the slip Luhan feels as he leaves the protective skin of Wu Zhao behind, and he kisses Minseok again and again.  
  
He reaches out to shut the door and turns the lock until he hears it click.  
  
Once the camera is out of sight, they break apart from each other.  
  
Minseok is breathless and pink in the face, all the way down to his throat. He's staring at Luhan like he wants to ask him a question, and Luhan wishes he could pull it out of him with his lips and his hands. But the cameras are still rolling, and Luhan's not sure if he can shoot this scene again without giving himself completely away--so instead, he does exactly what the script notes have told him to do.  
  
He lands his palm against the door, as if someone has backed him up against it. Then, he takes a shuddering sort of breath, and it signals the start of everything the director can't show onscreen.  
  
He knows Minseok is watching him. He can feel Minseok's eyes boring into the side of his head, but he just pushes at the door one more time and audibly whispers, "Joon, let me..."  
  
When Minseok groans, loud and ragged, right on cue, Luhan can feel his legs turn to jelly.  
  
  
  
  
After the shoot, when his face has been wiped clean of makeup and he's changed back into his own clothes, Luhan begs off the group dinner and asks Yixing to take him back to the hotel. He waves at Minseok weakly, exiting the apartment with a casual, carefully-worded goodbye.  
  
"See you tomorrow, Minseok-ah. Let's have lunch."  
  
Gu PD has been profuse in his compliments to them both. The bathroom scene has also, miraculously, taken just one take. Luhan is glad, partly because it's nine PM now, and they've been shooting all around Central since noon. Mostly, it's because he needs time to himself, to think things through.  
  
When he's back in his hotel room, where it's quiet, he pulls his phone out of his pocket. There's a missed call and an SMS, both from Jongin.  
  
_Hyung, are you filming?_  the message reads. _Thanks for talking to Kyungsoo~_  
  
It's followed by about a dozen different emojis with stars in their eyes and red kissy lips and so many hearts.  
  
Luhan tosses his phone onto his bed without replying and walks straight into a cold shower.  
  
  
  
  
The next day, he and Minseok grab lunch together at The Peak to get the best view of the skyline and Victoria Harbour. They say nothing of how they'd kissed, or what they'd felt during the scene behind the bathroom door.  
  
  
  
  
Soojung comes to Hong Kong a little over a month into the shoot.  _Days of Abandon_  is extending its filming period to six weeks, just as Yixing predicted, so she still gets to see Luhan in action when she arrives on set.  
  
"I said I'd come pick you up," Luhan says as he pecks her on the cheek after a take.  
  
It's him and two other actors for this particular scene, in which Zhao catches up with expatriated Korean friends who tell him, sometime before the kiss, that Song Joon is gay.  
  
Minseok is back at the hotel, probably still asleep.  
  
Soojung pecks Luhan on the opposite cheek, and a few of the staff members milling around them titter. "I wanted to surprise you," she whispers into his ear, standing on tip-toes.  
  
She's smiling up at him now, complexion like peaches and cream, and Luhan can make out the tiniest bit of uncertainty in her expression, even though she still looks as lovely as ever. It hits him just then, how easily her smile can melt him down--and how, at this moment, it's only making him feel guilty.  
  
"We're okay, aren't we, oppa?" There it is again--the minute furrowing of her brow, the vulnerable pull in her mouth. "We've just been busy, haven't we?"  
  
He smiles back as tenderly as he can to reassure her. It seems to work, because her features illuminate. "Of course, beautiful." He puts his arm around her, the protectiveness of it a habit. "Come on. Let's go back to the hotel."  
  
Soojung's booked her own room, of course. She's even checked into a completely different floor, and brought her stylist along as a buffer. But Luhan knows that, just like that time he went to visit her on set in Jeju-do, it's just for appearances.  
  
"Let's go out to dinner tonight." Soojung's wearing her hair down today, the way Luhan likes it best. "Tell Minseok-sunbae to come, too--with a date, if he likes." Her expression slides into something conspiratorial. "He shouldn't have any trouble finding one by seven, right?"  
  
"Yeah," Luhan manages to say, feeling the weight of it sink into his chest. "I don't see why he would."  
  
Things haven't been any different between him and Minseok. Not at all. Not if Luhan ignores the razor-sharp awareness that prickles over his skin every time Minseok sits a little too close, so their thighs touch, or looks at him for a moment too long, so Luhan catches that question Minseok's never asked still lingering in his gaze.  
  
Soojung's waiting expectantly, so Luhan takes his phone and types out a message.  
  
_Minseok-ah,_  he says.  _Soojung's in town. We should all have dinner. Bring a date._  
  
_Just say where,_ Minseok replies, two hours later, when Luhan and Soojung are finishing up their lunch at the hotel's sushi bar.  
  
Luhan wipes off his lips with the corner of his table napkin. He keys in the name of the restaurant and the time of their reservation and puts his phone away. Soojung sips her green tea, lashes thick and eyes reserved for him, and the affection Luhan would normally feel for her is overpowered by his unease.  
  
  
  
  
The Chinese model who plays Zhao's wife is the twenty-two-year-old Fan Wei, most recently seen in the pages of  _Vogue Nippon_  with the same gamine pixie cut she sports in the film. "A young Faye Wong," the fashion rags call her, drawing the comparison from her proud cheekbones and wide eyes that turn up at the corners, alluring. She's as tall as Minseok in her flat sandals, and almost-- _almost_ \--as beautiful.  
  
When they walk into the restaurant together, her hand tucked into his, Luhan experiences the telltale clench of disappointment.  
  
"Sunbae," Soojung trills. "Glad you could make it."  
  
"Hello, Soojung," Minseok replies with a discreet smile. He looks over at Luhan and nods, placing his hand on his date's tiny waist. "This is Fan Wei. She's in the movie with us. Wei, this is Soojung."  
  
"Wow," the model gushes, not losing a daub of her polish. "You're even prettier in real life."  
  
"Don't be silly," Soojung ripostes. "You're the model, not me."  
  
Wei's eyes shine. "Ge," she directs to Luhan. "Now I get why your girlfriend is called Korea's fairy."  
  
He smiles at her half-heartedly, his gaze drifting immediately to Minseok's face. The studied neutrality in it, which every movie star learns to uphold in front of a press line, only to drop the facade when they're out with friends, is what makes every trace of that half-smile disappear completely.  
  
"What is it?" Soojung whispers as Luhan pulls out her seat for her.  
  
He bends, so her lips are at the level of his ear. "What is what?"  
  
Minseok catches the movement, and their eyes meet from across the table.  
  
Soojung puts her little hand on Luhan's bicep. "Why do you look so…" Minseok is staring at him, "…so sad?"  
  
_Is that what this is,_  Luhan thinks to himself, as Minseok pulls out Wei's chair for her. Luhan's spent much more time with her on set, really, but he didn't realize how…touchy she was, when it comes to expressing her thanks. The moment she is seated and Minseok settles down next to her, she brushes her fingers over his cheek and the corner of his mouth, with the careful attention of a new lover.  Minseok isn't looking at Luhan anymore.  
  
Luhan tears his eyes away. "I don't know what you mean," he tells Soojung breezily, pressing his lips to her temple and sliding into his seat in one smooth movement.  
  
He knows she doesn't buy it when her hand cautiously removes itself from his arm and comes to fidget in her lap.  
  
"Oppa…" she tries again, under her breath.  
  
Wei taps Minseok on the chin, and he responds with a tiny smirk.  
  
Luhan swallows harshly. There is a bitter taste in his mouth that he can't seem to get rid of. "Everything is fine, Sooj."  
  
Soojung won't stop eyeing him after that. Long, searching looks from behind her menu and wine glass; quick, puzzled glances she tries to play off when Wei draws her into conversation. She lets Luhan hold her hand under the table when he reaches for it, but she doesn't squeeze back.  
  
Minseok focuses his attention on Wei, letting her feed things to him off her plate with her chopsticks and placing his hand between her shoulder blades when she murmurs a question into his waiting ear.  
  
Dinner runs long, even though Luhan can't remember anything that was discussed from the arrival of the bread basket to the departure of the dessert bowls. Only the cut of Minseok's jawline, the bump of his Adam's apple, his entire face in perpetual profile.  
  
After picking at her food and swilling way too much chardonnay for her unlined stomach to handle, Soojung gets drunk. Luhan piggybacks her the moment they get out of the elevator at the hotel, and she hooks her chin over his shoulder.  
  
"Oppa, let's have fun tomorrow," she susurrates, her breath metallic. "You were no fun today."  
  
"I'm sorry," Luhan starts to say, but Soojung surprises him by biting down gently on the juncture of his neck and shoulder.  
  
"Are you angry?" he asks, trying to be soothing about it, and Soojung leaves a kiss on the spot where her teeth have just been.  
  
"No," she mumbles. "I'm nervous."  
  
It's like that time in Luhan's apartment--Soojung laying out her fancy dinner and Luhan pulling her into his lap. It feels so long ago, how she had teased him about Minseok and their impending kiss, how Luhan had kissed her, thoroughly, to make her stop. He finds that painfully ironic.  
  
"Don't be," Luhan says. She couldn't possibly know…could she? "I never want you to be nervous when you're with me."  
  
She acts like she doesn't hear him. "But that's okay," she barrels on, "that's okay, since I love you so much." She kisses behind his ear this time. "So, so much, even though you won't tell me the same."  
  
That strikes a chord. Luhan whips his face around, baffled. "What are you talking about? Of course I--"  
  
"You tell me I'm beautiful," Soojung continues. "You tell me I'm special. You tell other people I'm your girl, and it makes me fall for you even more. But you never tell me you love me. Did you know that?" She's slurring her words now, talking so quickly and quietly. "I'd rather you told me you loved me, oppa."  
  
Luhan crouches so he can set her down. They're right in front of his room. When they're safely inside and the soft yellow lighting glows on, he faces her.  
  
"I love you," Luhan says, placing his hand underneath her elbow to support her. "I love you." His heart is racing, but it's not passion--it's guilt. Again. He pulls her into his embrace with both hands, because he doesn't know what else to do.  
  
Crushed against his chest, Soojung still manages to speak. "Does it count like this, oppa?"  
  
Luhan puts just enough space between them for him dip down and seal their mouths together. He kisses her deeply, deliberately, feeling achy all over as he does it. But he doesn't let up until she moans, like she's forgotten about everything else.  
  
  
  
  
Gu PD gives Luhan the day off, since Soojung will only be in town for another night. Luhan hadn't asked for special treatment, but Gu PD insists.  
  
"Show Soojung around," the director says over the phone, in the sage tone of a father. "I'll film the scenes you aren't in. Song Joon at work. Shots of the locale. We'll survive without you for a day, prince."  
  
The trouble is, Soojung doesn't want to be shown around.  
  
"I could take you to see the Big Buddha," Luhan says. He's pouring her a cup of coffee. She'd slept in his bed last night, after he'd gently unzipped her dress and slipped one of his sleeping shirts over her head. Luhan had fallen asleep in a chair by the bed, watching her breathe and feeling like a terrible person. "Or we could ride the tram up to The Peak and have something to eat? I think you'd really like the view."  
  
"We don't have to do anything special," Soojung tells him softly. "I'd much rather stay in with you all day."  
  
"Are you sure?" Luhan comes to her side, handing her the cup, which she sets down on the nightstand. Then she holds out her arms, so he knows to crawl back into bed with her.  
  
"I'm sure," she says, pulling him down until he's half on top of her. Her fingers thread through his hair on cue, but now the gesture lacks the confidence it used to have behind it. Luhan doesn't know what makes him kiss her on the neck--almost like he's asking for forgiveness--but he does it once, twice, before resting his cheek against her chest.  
  
  
  
  
They only have sex towards the end of the day, after they've watched a parade of movies and cartoons on the hotel's TV, and Soojung has dipped a teaspoon in each of the tarts and cakes available on the in-room dining menu.  
  
At dusk, when she slides her hand up the back of his shirt, scratching lightly down his spine, Luhan knows what she wants. She keeps her eyes open, like she wants to memorize the expression on his face as he divests her of her underwear and pulls her body against his. Her mouth tastes like strawberries.  
  
Soojung was never very vocal in bed. Whenever they get together, she muffles her moans into Luhan's shoulder or trades them for delicate gasps; the look of pure, unadulterated pleasure on her face expressing more than any sound could. But tonight, as he moves over her, she cries out uninhibitedly, like she doesn't care if anybody hears, like she would just keep going even if they came knocking on the door.  
  
"Soojung," Luhan forces out in the heat of it all. "Am I hurting you?" And even as he says it, he hopes, so fervently, that Minseok is still out filming, not alone in his room next door, privy to their noise. It makes him sick to his stomach--the fact that he's thinking about someone else, a  _man_ , when his girl is wet and naked beneath him. "Tell me if I'm hurting you."  
  
"Not like this," Soojung mumbles. It escalates into another moan.  
  
He works hard, getting her to come again and again, as if he's trying to make something up to her.


	3. Chapter 3

It's raining when he drops her off at the airport the next day, leaving Yixing in the car. There's a rogue droplet beading at her temple, and Luhan takes care to wipe it off as he kisses her on the forehead.  
  
"See you soon," he says, and he bites his tongue before the  _beautiful_ trips out by habit. He hasn't told her he loves her since that last--first?--time.  
  
It didn't feel quite right.  
  
Soojung plants a chaste one on his mouth, lingering only for a moment. "Goodbye, oppa," she says. She slides her sunglasses back on and walks towards the entrance of the departure area, where her stylist is waiting. She doesn't look over her shoulder. The glass doors automatically slide shut behind her.  
  
Yixing is uncharacteristically talkative on the drive back. It feels so forced, in a way, as if his manager has had to make a choice between that and deafening silence. When they pull up to the car park of Harbour City, where filming will begin today, Yixing takes a deep breath, and Luhan thinks the mindless chatter has finally come to an end. Then Yixing looks over his shoulder.  
  
"I want you to know, Lu, that you don't have to be China's prince all the time." His words are kind, just like his eyes.  
  
Luhan meets them. "I don't get it, Xing."  
  
"Perfect," Yixing explains. "Or, at least, perfect in the way you're expected to be."  
  
That's all he says. He eases out of the driver's seat and crosses the hood of the car to slide Luhan's door open for him, without further ado.  
  
  
  
  
Yixing's cryptic words are still running through Luhan's mind when he's led to a chair and simultaneously seen to by hair and makeup.  
  
He knows he should expect it by now--they shoot ninety percent of their scenes together, for god's sake--but that doesn't stop him from jerking in surprise at the sound of Minseok's voice.  
  
"Hey," is all he says as he climbs into the makeup chair opposite Luhan's. The stylists have put him in a suit because Song Joon is supposed to be in the middle of a workday. His dark hair has been combed neatly, completely rid of its natural rumple. But his mouth is still so full and so red, and there,  _right there,_  is that wretched question in his eyes.  
  
Luhan folds in his lips to wet them. "Long time no see, Minseok-ah." He knows it sounds nothing like a joke, because he isn't kidding.  
  
"It's only been a day," Minseok murmurs. "But I know what you mean."  
  
The tinge of longing behind it does not go unnoticed. "I didn't know about you and Fan Wei," Luhan ventures, because he can't help himself. "I guess it really is 'off' this time with your SK-II supermodel."  
  
"It's been over for a while, Lu." Minseok looks over, and the heat of his gaze sets every single bump on Luhan's spine on fire. "And Wei…"  
  
"You're sleeping with her, right?" Luhan butts in.  
  
Minseok's eyes darken. "No, I'm not." His smile is sharp and hollow. "Only one of us has bedded a woman since we got to Hong Kong, and it isn't me."  
  
Luhan flushes, swift as a sea swell. "You heard us?"  
  
"I guess the hotel didn't put as much money into its soundproofing as it did into its upholstery," Minseok replies dryly.  
  
Then, just like the first day they'd met, at the read-through in Myeongdong, he seems to sense that he's said too much, and his mouth--that perfect, kissable mouth--stills over the last word. He shifts in his seat.  
  
"I'm sorry," he mutters. "That was so inappropriate of me."  
  
"I'm sorry, too," Luhan offers in return. Everything about the apology is melancholy.  
  
"For what?"  
  
"I don't know, Minseok-ah."  
  
But that's a lie. Luhan  _does_ know. He's sorry because he feels like he's just cheated on someone--or worse, two someones at the same time.  
  
He doesn't know how long they sit in silence. It could be three minutes, it could be thirty. The hairstylists and makeup artists have long finished their work and proceeded to the craft service table. The crew is having technical difficulties today--something about the car park's uncooperative lighting. From behind them, Luhan can make out an intense discussion on golf between two of their sunbaes--one who plays Song Joon's boss, and one who plays Zhao's. Tomorrow, these two and the two other actors who portray Zhao's Korean friends will fly back to Seoul, having completed their scenes for the film.  
  
Luhan and Minseok will stay on for another six days to complete theirs.  
  
"When I was a rookie," Minseok says out of nowhere, his voice low but clear over the din of production, "there was a hoobae who confessed to me."  
  
"Just one?" Luhan's not in a teasing mood, so his smirk is lukewarm. "I find that hard to believe."  
  
"So did I," Minseok continues, "because he was a man."  
  
That's not what Luhan had meant, nor what he had been expecting. "Oh." It takes a little time for him to formulate a better response. Minseok waits--or, at least, that's what it feels like. "How did it happen?"  
  
Minseok picks at his fingernails. "He told me at a company dinner.  _Romeo & Juliet _had just come out, and YG was celebrating its success."  
  
"That was a great movie," Luhan says, just to fill in the static.  
  
"After dinner, we were supposed to head to a noraebang, and the kid--Jongdae--said he wanted to ride with me."  
  
"Jongdae…" The name is too plain to recognize. "Was he an actor, too?"  
  
"A singer," Minseok confirms. "An amazing one. Kim Jongdae. We were trainees together, but under different departments, and he was supposed to debut the same year my movie came out."  
  
"Supposed to." Luhan hums. "Were you close?"  
  
"Yes." Minseok smooths his thumb over a dark eyebrow. "That night, I'd driven myself to the company dinner, so we walked to the parking lot together. And just like that, he told me."  
  
A chill treads lightly over Luhan's nape. "What did he say?"  
  
"He said, 'Hyung, I tried to stop myself, but I just couldn't seem to do it.'" Minseok takes a deep, deep breath and releases it, like something in it has pained him. "I asked him what he was talking about, and all in a rush, he said, 'I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you, all along. You're the reason I stayed.' Then he just… _looked_ at me, all hopeful, and he started to ask, 'Is there any chance…'" Minseok's mouth sets in a grim line. "I shut him down so fast. 'I'm sorry, Jongdae,' I said. I felt so strange, I wouldn't even let him finish. 'I'm sorry, but I'm not gay,' I said."  
  
"And what did he say?" Luhan whispers. His heart is pounding out a hazardous beat.  
  
"He didn't say a word," Minseok tells him. "He face just crumpled, right there in front of me, and I felt so terrible." Minseok tugs at the snug, starched collar of his white button-down, as if it's part of the problem. "He was pretty much my best friend at the company, you know? So I just held him for a minute, to let him know I still considered him a friend. Held him until he shrugged me off and kind of smiled, like he didn't want me to worry."  
  
Luhan can already see where this is going.  
  
"No one really cares when a trainee quits," Minseok says. "It doesn't appear in the news, or anything like that--but it was news to me."  
  
"He quit." Luhan doesn't pose it as a question.  
  
"Yes. He did. Four months before he was supposed to debut. I thought he might try for another company--yours, maybe--because he was so talented. But that night in the parking lot was the last I ever saw of him." Minseok exhales, and it's as pained as it had been earlier. "I wasn't lying when I told him I didn't feel the same. But sometimes," his eyes mellow considerably, "sometimes, when I remember how close we were, and how happy and carefree, in our last days as children, I wonder how things would have turned out if I'd given him a chance."  
  
Luhan imagines Minseok now with all his gorgeous women, going through each one like so many designer suits, because he'd never found the one that fit quite right.  
  
"Minseok-ah." His throat works. "Why are you telling me this story?"  
  
"I don't know." Minseok echoes Luhan's words from before. "I guess it's because, recently, I feel like I'm Jongdae, trying to say something and getting cut off before I can."  
  
"If you're Jongdae," Luhan says, with a twinge, "then who is you?"  
  
The look on Minseok's face is bewildered. Soft and yielding, too, like butter over heat.  
  
There is a fifty percent chance, Luhan thinks to himself, that Minseok won't say what he wants him to say. That leaves a fifty percent chance, he continues thinking, that Minseok  _will_ say what he wants him to say--and that's his name.  
  
_It's you, Luhan._  
  
"All right, gentlemen!" Gu PD bellows from the center of the car park. Minseok snaps to attention, and the spell binding them together is broken. "Lighting issue addressed. We're ready for you!" Inside, Luhan's organs have turned to quicksand, caving into themselves, speck by speck.  
  
"That's us," Minseok says, hopping out of his chair. "Thanks for letting me ramble on about my old stories." He laughs, and it rings with nerves.  
  
Luhan gets up, too. "I like your stories," he mutters, suddenly thinking about closure and the different definitions it would hold for him, for Soojung, for Minseok, and for poor Kim Jongdae.  
  
  
  
  
Four days left in Hong Kong.  
  
Jongin calls just as Luhan is exiting the hotel gym, wet bangs in his eyes and a small towel draped over his neck. Minseok hadn't replied when Luhan texted him asking if he wanted to come along.  
  
"Hyung," Jongin greets him. His voice is high and pleasantly nasal, which signals he's probably just been laughing. "When are you coming home?"  
  
"In a few days," Luhan replies. He dabs at his forehead with the thick terrycloth. "How are you doing, Jonginnie?"  
  
"I'm going on hiatus," Jongin says lightly. "My scandal hasn't been resolved yet. They're still calling me a thug in some circles."  
  
A hiatus following a scandal, especially one including a fistfight, sounds de rigeur. "You're not planning to reveal what really happened?"  
  
"I don't want Soo's name in the press." Jongin sounds matter-of-fact now, like he's discussing the weather in Seoul. "I'm used to it, but he's not. And I don't want him to have to deal with all that."  
  
Luhan grins to himself. Jongin is such as sweet kid. "That's gallant of you."  
  
"And I've just asked him to move in with me."  
  
" _Well._ " Luhan's eyebrows shoot sky-high. "That escalated quickly."  
  
"Did it?" Clearly, Jongin disagrees. "He hasn't given me an answer yet. It just made sense to me, because I want him around all the time, and because he's in my bed almost every night--"  
  
"Stop right there," Luhan warns. "Soo's my friend, too. I don't need to know the details of what you guys do when you're alone."  
  
"It's so different with a man, though…less soft curves, more hard--"  
  
"Jongin!" Luhan can feel the blood pooling in his cheeks. But it's too late, because he finishes the sentence mentally.  _More hard planes, like Minseok's chest and abs, the slope of his back when he does his push-ups, the V-shape peeking out of the top of his gym shorts…_  
  
The infuriating laughter that follows is nothing if not familiar. "Shouldn't you be immune to this by now? You  _are_ starring a gay film. And I'm guessing," Jongin pitches his voice devilishly low, "that you've already sucked face with Kim Minseok."  
  
Luhan sighs. Even the mere mention of the man is inescapable. "Yes, we've filmed the kiss, Jongin."  
  
"How was it?" Jongin's as droll as can be. All of a sudden he says, "Hold on," and in the background, Luhan hears a snatch of his conversation with someone else. _Hey, need help with that? I'm just talking to Luhan-hyung._ It's Kyungsoo, most likely.  
  
"I…" Luhan hesitates, "liked it."  
  
Five, four, three, two, one. Jongin's gasp rips through the pregnant pause as though it were a piece of silk. "Excuse me?"  
  
Luhan didn't realize he wanted to tell someone so badly. "I liked it. Kissing Minseok."  
  
"Are you telling me--"  
  
"I want him." No filter. "I think I'm infatuated with him."  
  
"Wow." There's no masking Jongin's shock. " _Wow._  All this time, I was having a blast teasing you about it, because you're the straightest guy I know, but…just…wow." He chokes out a laugh. "You and me, we're in the same boat, huh?"  
  
"Are we?" Luhan says miserably. "Nothing is going to happen, Jongin."  
  
"Have you talked to him about it?"  
  
"No." He and Minseok only talk in riddles. "It doesn't matter, either way, because I have Soojung."  
  
"I remember," the rockstar puts in. "But can things really go back to the way they were now that you know?"  
  
"Now that I know…what?" A question for a question. It's always been a bad habit of Luhan's.  
  
Jongin spells it out for him with impatience. "That you have _these feelings_  for him." He exhales. "Hyung, do you know what Kyungsoo told me right after he talked to you? He said he'd been in love with me for five years.  _Five years._  That spans the entirety of my career, which means he's felt that way since he was hired to be my manager. And do you know how that made me feel?" Jongin barrels on, not bothering to stop for breath. "Ridiculous. Full of regrets. Like I'd wasted so much time, when I could have had what I wanted, right there in front of me."  
  
Luhan grips his phone a little tighter. "I won't hurt Soojung." He's gritting his teeth, molars digging into each other as he speaks. "She's a good girl, and she loves me, and she hasn't done anything wrong."  
  
The silence is back, but only for a moment. "I understand you, hyung." It feels like their stations have been reversed, and Jongin is the elder, and Luhan the junior. "Soojung is everything good." It's sad, the way Jongin says it. "But you can't stay with people just because they're good. You stay with them because they're everything."  
  
Luhan's tries to form a rebuttal to that, the leather case of his phone squeaking in his hand from how tightly he's grasping it. But he comes up empty, and he and Jongin huff into the receiver at the same time.  
  
  
  
  
The final scene of  _Days of Abandon_  is filmed on their last day in Hong Kong. It's the goodbye between Zhao and Song Joon, when the latter leaves the city to marry a nice girl he doesn't love.  
  
They're filming the whole thing on the Central-Mid-Levels escalator (the longest escalator system in the world, according to Gu PD). Luhan remembers it well from watching  _Chungking Express_  on DVD, and seeing Faye Wong and Valerie Chow ride it past Tony Leung's dingy little flat.  
  
He'll remember it for another reason now: the end of a brief, bewitching chapter.  
  
Gu PD pulls his two leading men into a powwow before he starts rolling. "I want to work with you two again," he says warmly. "I knew this movie was going to be a success when you both signed on."  
  
They bow in turn, murmuring their thanks.  
  
Gu PD gets down to business, looking pleased as punch. "What I need you to do for me in this last scene is make me feel the  _longing_." He squeezes his fists together with gusto. Then he looks out at the parade of civilians riding the escalator, and the throng of spectators around them, here to see the movie stars. "I want it to feel like you're the only two people left in this city. Forget the crowds. You don't see anybody else, or hear anybody else, except the man in front of you, and the last thing he's telling you before you separate." Gu PD breathes in. "You think you can do that?"  
  
"I'll try my best, PD-nim," Minseok says in earnest. Luhan nods along, watching him. He wonders if Gu PD and the screenwriter of this film and the vastness of the universe are all conspiring against him.  
  
They're aboard the escalator when they hear Gu PD's " _Action!_ "  
  
Song Joon is one step ahead of Zhao. He looks back, his chin hidden by his shoulder, and the light streams past the side of his face, soft and dreamy.  
  
Zhao closes the distance between them, so they're standing side by side. "Will you ever come back to Hong Kong?" he asks.  
  
"I can't say." Song Joon is so gentle, as always. A caress of lips across an eyelid. "Maybe someday, if my work takes me back again."  
  
Zhao brushes the back of Song Joon's hand with his own. Song Joon flips his palm, so it's facing up, in between them. Zhao doesn't take it--he only traces its lines with his fingertip.  
  
"Even if it doesn't take you back," he says, "come back for me."  
  
The calm in Song Joon's expression splinters at the corners. "I'll be a married man soon. And you're still a married man, Zhao."  
  
"I'm leaving her," the other whispers, his emotions seeping out with each hot breath. "I'm leaving her today, the way you're leaving me."  
  
"I want you to find happiness." Song Joon's voice, always an even plateau, is now as jagged as a precipice. "I want you to live in a house full of love, and to do your groceries because you're running out, not because you're running away, and to have drinks with good friends, not with strange men, and I…" He swallows with difficulty, as if his throat is swollen. "I…"  
  
"You're a strange man," Zhao interrupts, "and I'll always love you."  
  
Song Joon permits himself a smile. It's bittersweet, and evanescent. "No, I'm not," he corrects Zhao, finally threading their fingers together. "We've known each other since we were boys."  
  
They aren't passing by buildings anymore, but trees--bright green and swaying in the warm wind. Luhan can hear the sound of his own breathing, crisp in his ears. If he cuts his eyes, just so, to the right, he can make out the rosy swell of Minseok's lip.  
  
"Don't forget about me," he murmurs, chest heaving. The force of his real-life emotion slams into him like a concrete wall.  
  
"Never." Minseok--no, it's Song Joon,  _Song Joon_ \--thumbs over the back of his hand. "You're the love of my life."  
  
Then, so slowly it aches, he lets go.  
  
They've reached the bisection at Robinson Road, where Song Joon is to meet a relative who will take him to the airport. They step off the escalator and come out from under its plexiglass canopy into the daylight.  
  
This is where Zhao and Song Joon say goodbye. They don't kiss, or whisper. They don't go out with a bang. They only look at each other, one last time, drinking in the sight of themselves at thirty years old, hair blowing into their respective eyes, on the sidewalk of an empty street.  
  
It is Song Joon who walks away first.  
  
  
  
  
There's a celebration party that evening in a Korean restaurant in Mongkok. It's on the eighth floor of a midrise commercial building. From the window, Luhan observes the rows and columns of gaudy lights that crowd the horizon, blinding and unapologetic.  
  
He and Minseok stick close together, foregoing conversation for a silence that teems with unsaid things.  
  
As the night winds down, and the people around them begin to file out in a soju-induced haze, Luhan is emboldened enough to ask, "Can I sleep in your room tonight?" He knows how close he is to revealing himself (if he hasn't done it already), and he doesn't even care. "For old time's sake."  
  
"Yes, you can," Minseok answers. "Whatever you want." It's so simple, yet so loaded, and it makes Luhan curl his toes inside his sneakers.  
  
They take turns in the shower. Luhan's brought his sleeping clothes and his toothbrush, the way he does when he goes over to Soojung's…but he stops the thought  _right there_ , because he's decided to be selfish this final night. He's not going to think about her at all.  
  
In the morning, when they fly back to Seoul, everything will go back to normal, anyway.  
  
Minseok's already in bed when Luhan emerges from the in-suite bathroom. He props himself up on his elbows when Luhan shuts the bathroom door. Then he smiles, and he pats the space beside him, just like a friend would. It's the same side Luhan had slept on when they'd taken that nap together.  
  
"Did I wake you?" Luhan asks, feeling warm and wistful.  
  
"I wasn't asleep," is Minseok's reply. "But I should be. Come on."  
  
Luhan feels the dip of the mattress under his backside. He smells the fragrance of the detergent in the linens. He senses the stillness of the air between his arm and Minseok's, under the covers, where they do not touch.  
  
Minseok turns over on his side. "We had a good run, didn't we?" His breath fans over Luhan's cheeks, toothpaste-fresh.  
  
"I had a blast." Luhan stares at one of the switched-off ceiling lights. "I had so much fun, working with you. And even when we weren't working," he adds in haste. "Every second of it."  
  
Minseok is heavy-lidded, but not in a way that suggests lethargy. "The feeling," he says, "is mutual."  
  
One, two, three, four, five.  _Breathe._  Luhan tries to resist, tries to keep his head above water, but it's as if his body is on auto-pilot. He turns over on his side, too, so he and Minseok can see each other's faces.  
  
He lets the words breach his lips before he can change his mind. "Did Kim Jongdae ever tell you how beautiful you are?"  
  
It's enough to disrupt the assembly line of Minseok's slow, steady blinks. Luhan loves the way his eyelids flutter, completely surprised. He files it away for the future, when he can no longer see it up close.  
  
Minseok's lips part. "No."  
  
_This,_ Luhan thinks,  _is what sensual looks like._  
  
"Take it from another man, then," he says with conviction. "You're beautiful."  
  
"So are you," his companion mumbles.  
  
Luhan's heart throbs uncomfortably.  _All right, Luhan,_  it seems to chide.  _That's enough. That should be enough to last you._  
  
It's like Minseok has read his mind. "We should get some sleep." He presses his lips together. They're moist at the center from where he's darted out his tongue. "Early flight tomorrow."  
  
"You're right," Luhan agrees. And at that very moment, he feels impossibly reckless. There's a surge of something potent behind his ribcage, and then he's leaning over and pecking Minseok's bottom lip--so softly, it could almost pass as innocent.  
  
"Good night, Minseok-ah," he whispers, bravado slipping a mile and minute. He doesn't look him in the eye. He only turns his body in the opposite direction and switches off the lamp on his nightstand.  
  
The room falls dark.  
  
When Minseok cautiously hooks an arm over his waist and keeps it there, it liquefies Luhan's bones.  
  
"Sweet dreams, Lu," Minseok whispers into his nape. His voice is defenseless, and it seems to suggest that Minseok isn't holding him to any promises. "Thank you for Hong Kong," Minseok tells him, and it breaks Luhan's heart.  
  
  
  
  
Soojung is still in the mountains filming her drama when Luhan gets back to his apartment building. The tail-end of this summer is a slow, dry burn--one of the hottest Seoul has seen in recent years.  
  
Yixing rolls down his window and waves. "Call me if you need anything." He's in the passenger seat of the SME van that had picked them up from Incheon.  
  
"The agency sent over food," Luhan responds. The CEO's text had come in shortly after they'd landed. "I'll survive, Xing."  
  
"That's not what I meant," his manager replies pointedly.  
  
A mob of fans had been lying in wait at the airport. Luhan knew exactly what they were in for: the hysterical cries and invasive photography, the obstacle course of thrust-out gifts and feet to trip over. He wished he could have had his last goodbye in peace; a memory in a hushed corner, however brief. But the sheer mass of bodies had been too much to contend with. In the end, he and Minseok were escorted out through separate exits, and that was that.  
  
So again, with only the slightest fluctuation in tone, he says, "I'll survive, Xing."  
  
He tries to phone Soojung, but the line won't connect. So instead, he fashions a text message for her, going through three drafts before finally sending the simplest one of all. He doesn't know what his deal is. It's just a text.  
  
_Hey, Sooj, I'm back! Tried calling you but I couldn't get through. How's filming going?_  
  
It doesn't take long for her to reply.  
  
_Hi oppa. Signal is bad. I'll call you when I can._  
  
Luhan doesn't hear from her until a week later, when most of his follow-up texts have gone unanswered. They speak of unimportant things--the heat in the city, the sunbae in Gyeonggi-do who'd asked after Luhan--and then Soojung is summoned back to the set.  
  
  
  
  
It takes almost a month for Luhan to meet up with Jongin, who's taken his hiatus (and his manager) to Jeju-do for the fresh air.  
  
They keep in touch via email. Jongin describes every single thing he finds irresistible about Kyungsoo--his heart-shaped lips and cool hands, the way his blinking slows when Jongin brushes his fringe out of his eyes. In turn, Luhan tells him about what happened in Hong Kong in vague, emotionless terms. He's had no contact with Minseok since they got back to Korea, and instead of making him forget, it's filled him with a deep sense of loss. Luhan has never been lovesick before. The feeling is persistent, and tactile, and terribly unsettling.  
  
Today, they're all back in Jongin's flat, smack dab in the center of Hongdae. The couple's got their heads bent over Kyungsoo's phone, watching an episode of  _Running Man._  Luhan nurses an iced coffee and observes them surreptitiously.  
  
He can tell they're holding hands under the table. They look so content, like the regular people with regular jobs and regular romances Luhan's played in all his movies before  _Days of Abandon._  He wants that, too. He thought he'd had it with Soojung--and really, for a time, he did.  
  
It makes him want to throw up when he thinks of how he's betrayed her, turning his heart over to another.  
  
He's still holding out hope that he's going through a phase. Quarter-life crisis. A late coming of age. Maybe, sometime soon, it will pass.  
  
"You okay, hyung?"  
  
Jongin's looking at him with concern. Luhan blinks, and he realizes belatedly that Kyungsoo is no longer at the table. He's standing by the water dispenser in the kitchen. The discretion in Jongin's voice places him just out of earshot.  
  
"I'm just thinking," Luhan says dismissively, eking out a smile. He doesn't want to talk about this.  
  
Jongin smiles back, understanding, but he refuses to cave. "I did a lot of thinking right after my scandal broke out. Thought about what my options were."  
  
"If you had to give up performing?" Luhan drums his fingers over the table. They produce a dull sound. "I don't think the situation ever got to that point. The other guy never pressed charges."  
  
"Right," Jongin says, "but I meant if I had to give up Kyungsoo."  
  
Luhan's mouth quirks. "I see."  
  
Jongin presses his elbows to the table, nestling his face between cupped palms. "Hyung, I'm really happy with him."  
  
"I can tell, Jonginnie."  
  
"In the beginning, I had this idea that I was just being possessive.  _My_ manager,  _my_ friend. I wanted his attention and his approval all the time, and sometimes I'm like that even with you, you know?" Jongin's eyebrows slope. "I didn't realize how smitten I was until late in the game." He looks so vulnerable. It suits him. "I guess you can never really choose who you're going to fall in love with."  
  
Luhan traces the wood grain of the table with his fingertip. He nods slowly, and he doesn't let his careful smile dip.  
  
"It scared me, when I finally understood how deep I was in. You were still in Hong Kong then, and I think I'd only told you so much as to make it sound like a crush." Jongin's eyes widen, like he's reliving the whole thing. "What did I know about feeling this way for a guy? Nothing. I'd never experimented, or thought about experimenting, or had any inkling I could be attracted to someone who wasn't a girl. But Soo," his face is glowing, gold and pink, "Soo is different."  
  
There's that all-too-familiar twinge again; a heartstring plucked. "I'm happy for you," Luhan murmurs. He can hear Kyungsoo puttering around in the kitchen. He can guess how comforting the sound is to Jongin's ears.  
  
"You could be happy, too, you know," Jongin addresses him openly. "You just won't let yourself."  
  
"You don't know that." Luhan bites the inside of his cheek. "We never even…" He trails off, and of course he remembers. Minseok's fingers lacing into his. Minseok's warm chest against his back. Minseok's mouth, slick and soft and open for a kiss.  
  
"That doesn't mean _nothing happened._ " Jongin mutters. "I know you, hyung. I know how much you're keeping from me. Your emails were dead giveaways, if anything at all. Do you know how sad you look right now?"  _That_ word, again. "It's the first thing I noticed when you came in. I've never seen you like this. Like you're lost, or something." He puts his hand on the back of Luhan's chair. "You realize everything's changed, don't you? And it's never going to go back to the way it was, no matter how much you force the issue?"  
  
"What do you want me to do, Jongin?" Luhan says, feeling caged and itching with defensiveness. "Throw away two--no, two and a  _half_ \--years of my life for an infatuation?" He's embarrassed by the tremor in his voice. "I don't even know what I'm  _doing_ , pining over a man like this, and he and I--we never discussed what this was, between us. And it's like you're asking me to break up with Soojung, who is a blameless  _angel_ , so I can try for something uncertain with, with…" He hasn't said his name in a while, so his tongue stumbles over it.  "Minseok."  
  
"Yes." The word is as solemn as a prayer. "Because, clearly, you don't love her anymore--you love him. It's not just an infatuation."  
  
Luhan breathes silently, heavily, staring at the table.  
  
Jongin's next words are gentle, designed to coax, not provoke. "You have to stop torturing yourself, hyung. It's just making you miserable. And you're underestimating Soojung if you think she can't see through it. She's probably just as unhappy as you are."  
  
"Jongin…"  
  
"You know I'm right."  
  
They would've most likely kept going in circles if Kyungsoo hadn't chosen that moment to come back to the table. He sets down a tray laden with glasses of ice water and a bowl of piping hot popcorn. Both Luhan and Jongin shift in their seats.  
  
"Thanks, Soo," they chime in unison.  
  
"Am I interrupting something?" Kyungsoo asks in his calm way, eyes gone wide and adorable.  
  
"Nope," Luhan volunteers. He makes a show of scrolling through his phone, like his conversation with Jongin had been about something inconsequential, and so easily detached from.  
  
Jongin sighs, turning his attention to Kyungsoo. "Come here," he says quietly. He doesn't wait for an answer before tugging the other down into his lap.  
  
"You have a guest," Kyungsoo cajoles him. He's begging off, trying to slide away. Kyungsoo never seemed like the type to embrace public displays of affection.  
  
"Just stay put, please," Jongin says. He winds an arm around Kyungsoo's waist, protective. It reminds Luhan of the time he and Jongin had seen  _Marley & Me_ together as rookies, and how, afterwards, Jongin had had his sister bring his puppies by the agency so he could hug each one of them, wiping his tears on their fur.  
  
Kyungsoo seems to sense that something is amiss, because he stops resisting and instead peers curiously into Jongin's face.  
  
Luhan gets very, very involved with his phone.  
  
"You're my boyfriend, not my butler," he hears Jongin whisper. "You don't have to keep fetching things for us."  
  
"I'm happy to, Jongin," Kyungsoo says simply. Luhan flicks up his eyes so he catches Jongin pressing in for a kiss. It's quick and harmless; nothing more than a thank you. But it's something Luhan wants and can't have, so it stings nonetheless.  
  
Kyungsoo's produced his phone again, settling comfortably on Jongin's thighs. The latter looks over at Luhan before they continue watching the episode.  _Are we okay, hyung?_  
  
Luhan pulls up a smile to reassure him, but it's wan and he knows it. All he can think about is that barely-there brush of lips in a hotel bed, that  _thank you for Hong Kong, Lu,_ that last look and  _see you around_  at the crowded airport, that question Minseok's never asked him fading away like so many summer days.  
  
  
  
  
It takes another four more months after that, and up until the very end, Luhan vacillates between doing it and not doing it, making up his mind only to change it again at the last minute. But when he finally breaks up with Soojung, a few weeks shy of their three-year anniversary, it's almost like she's prepared for it.  
  
They're sitting in her car, in SME's basement parking lot. Soojung doesn't have a speck of makeup on. It makes her look younger, more fragile.  
  
"I wondered who was going to end it first," she says, thumbing at the steering wheel. "I thought it might be better if it was me. Like maybe it would hurt less." She shrugs, and a lock of hair falls over her shoulder.  
  
"I'm so sorry," Luhan mumbles. He brushes it back, out of habit, before he realizes he doesn't have the right to do that anymore. His hand recoils. "I never wanted to hurt you.  _Never._  You've always been so special to me."  
  
She shrugs again, but her mouth twists this time. It's a defense mechanism. "I knew something was wrong a long time ago. You dropped off the face of the map while you were in Hong Kong. You'd never done that before." Luhan can't stand the look on her face--one of pure defeat. "When I came to see you, I thought things would go back to normal. But then we went to dinner, and it was just…completely off. Like there used to be this shiny little space in your eyes, reserved just for me, and I'd already been replaced without even knowing why."  
  
"Sooj…"  
  
"Are you going to tell me it was Fan Wei?" Soojung murmurs. Her laugh is brittle, like clattering metal. "Don't lie to me. I know it was-- _is_ \--Kim Minseok." Her lip trembles, so she sucks it into her mouth. "How ironic, don't you think? I'd give you my poster of him if I still had it."  
  
She  _had_ known, after all. And she's angry, of course she is, because he'd deceived her. The shame of it makes his stomach roil with acid.  
  
"Soojung," he entreats her, "I never… _we_  never…he didn't…"  
  
"It's worse that way," she hisses back at him. "It's even  _worse_." She doesn't expound, but Luhan understands her perfectly. A betrayal of the heart, not of the body.  
  
When she adds, "I never knew you could feel like that for a man," the blood rushes straight to Luhan's head.  
  
"I don't--I didn't. I don't know," he answers helplessly. He's dizzy, and he feels naked. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I hate myself for doing this to you."  
  
"I loved you so much," she whispers, unrelenting. A plump tear rolls down her cheek, followed swiftly by another. She draws herself up, proud as the empress she plays in her sageuk. "I don't want to see you anymore. Not anywhere. Delete my number. Delete our pictures. Don't bother sending back anything I've left at your place--you can have it all. Throw it out, if you want. I don't care."  
  
Luhan thought he'd been prepared for the consequences. He didn't realize it would feel like he was tied to a whipping post, his back exposed, as Soojung's words lashed him again and again.  
  
The worst part is that she probably feels the same kind of pain, too.  
  
"How could you, oppa?" she shakes out. Her cheeks are wet. "I loved you  _so much._ "  
  
And Luhan doesn't care if she hits him, doesn't care if she bruises his chest and his face with her balled-up fists that still smell like the coconut in her lotion. He reaches across the passenger's seat, pushing right past the boundaries he'll have to observe from now on, and he envelops her in a fierce, hopeless embrace.  
  
She cries silently, her tears and sobs suffusing his shirt with a damp heat. He holds her through the whole thing, knowing full well it will be another one of those last times--until, after a long spell, she calms.  
  
"I did love you," Luhan says then, tenderly, his voice breaking. "How could I not?"  
  
Her entire face gentles, like a string at the top of her head has been pulling it tight all the while, save for this one moment. And then the softness is gone, the keenness of fresh heartbreak taking its place. Soojung nods, perfunctory, and looks away. When the door on his side unlocks with a quiet click, Luhan knows she's telling him to go.  
  
  
  
  
It's been a while since Luhan was single. It says so in all the papers, when word gets out that Korea's golden couple has split up.  
  
_Luhan, Jung Soojung end their three-year relationship,_  all the headlines declare.  _The actors' respective agencies confirm the separation and say the two remain friends._  
  
That last part isn't accurate. Their breakup was more poignant than it was amicable. But management had thought it best to preserve the illusion of peace. And when, via messenger, Soojung returns all the jewelry, gadgets, and stuffed toys Luhan had given her over the years, he just doesn't have any fight left in him.  
  
  
  
  
At Gu PD's birthday gala, two weeks before  _Days of Abandon_  is slated for release, Luhan finally sees Minseok again.  
  
It's been months since Hong Kong, months since the breakup, months since they've had any sort of contact.  
  
Luhan's dyed his hair chestnut in preparation for a new role. Tonight, his stylist has had the boyish puff of it slicked away from his forehead to go with his suit.  
  
Minseok's wearing a suit, too, and there's a brand-new supermodel hanging off his arm to match. Luhan recognizes her from her billboards. Her hair is a dark silk sheet draped over one shoulder, and her painted lips hover close to Minseok's ear, speaking into it confidingly. It gives Luhan a pang, right in the center of his chest.  
  
There's no avoiding each other. Not when they're two of the biggest stars in the place, and all Gu PD knows is how inseparable they were on the set of his movie. Of course they're seated at the same table next to each other. Of course Minseok looks excruciatingly handsome in indigo, his hair still black as night. Of course Luhan is tongue-tied, yearning, and all he manages is a lame nod that suits neither him nor the object of his affections.  
  
"Luhan." Not Lu. It sounds unnatural. "I didn't know you were coming."  
  
"Minseok," he replies. Not Minseok-ah. "It's been a while."  
  
They shake hands, and Luhan takes his seat. His palm tingles from the touch.  
  
Minseok introduces him to his date, but Luhan forgets her name immediately after he learns it. Minseok is here, right here, within his grasp. He's with a beautiful woman, and it's been so long, and Luhan is afraid he's forgotten all about their time in Hong Kong. But there it is--that blessed, steadfast question flickering behind those dark orbs, and Luhan clings to it like a port in a storm.  
  
The moment the supermodel excuses herself to the powder room, the atmosphere shifts between them.  
  
"How've you been?" Minseok murmurs, eyes trained on a point across the room. "We haven't spoken to each other since we got back." He licks his lips into a cautious smile.  
  
Luhan follows the movement closely. "I broke up with Soojung," he says. Just like that.  
  
"Did you?" The smile falters. "I mean, I'd heard…I'd read things online. But I didn't know it was you who…" If Luhan hadn't spent so much time with Minseok before they  _stopped_ spending so much time together, he would have missed the subtle quake in the other's voice. "I'm sorry. How are you holding up?"  
  
"Better." Luhan looks over at him. "It was a big mess, but now I feel free." He licks his lips, too, because they've gone dry. And then he catches it--Minseok's gaze darting quickly to his mouth.  
  
He places his hand on Minseok's knee. It tenses, just for a second, before giving in.  
  
"That's good." Minseok exhales. "I'm glad."  
  
"We should talk." Luhan says, voice pitched low. "You should come over to my house, and we should catch up."  
  
"Tonight?" Minseok's knee tenses again, sinew shifting under Luhan's palm.  
  
"If you like." Luhan wants, and wants, and  _wants._  "But only if you haven't got anything planned with your girl."  
  
"She's not my girl," Minseok tells him. Luhan's heart skips a hundred beats. "She's a YG-sanctioned date." His chuckle is monotonous. "They noticed I haven't been…seeing anyone, lately. Thought I could use a little help."  
  
Luhan can't wait for this party to be over. "Come over tonight," he says. "After this, whenever it ends. Take your date home. I'll wait for you."  
  
Minseok passes his hand over the one Luhan's resting on his knee. Every meeting of skin on skin is a promise. Luhan wants to hear it out loud for once.  
  
"All right." The last of Minseok's fingers traces over his knuckles. The supermodel is weaving her way back through white tablecloths and clinking champagne flutes. "All right, Lu."  
  
  
  
  
Luhan French-exited at ten, because he just couldn't sit still any longer.  
  
Minseok had squeezed his way out of a cluster of sunbaes and quickly pulled him aside. "I'll see you around midnight," he'd whispered. His thumb traced soothing little circles into the underside of Luhan's wrist.  
  
"Midnight." Luhan had felt the skinship all over his body, like concentric ripples of water. "I'll be waiting."  
  
He's in his apartment now, showered, changed, and just…ready. His bangs are flopping into his eyes. His fingers curl into the worn fabric of the shorts he wears at home. The wall clock in the kitchen reads half past twelve.  
  
It's not that Luhan's afraid he won't come (although the thought of it makes his hands shake). It's that the build-up to this moment has been torturously slow, achingly indefinite--and he just hopes this thing, whatever it is, works out the way he wants it to.  
  
It's a quarter to one when the doorbell sounds.  
  
On the other side of the door, Minseok's face is exhausted. "I'm sorry, I couldn't get away until now."  
  
"It's fine," Luhan says, stepping aside so he can come in. "You've never been late before."  
  
Minseok toes off his shoes at the entrance. He's still in his suit, and even though he's slightly more dishevelled (shirt untucked, tie gone), Luhan's never seen anybody look so perfect.  
  
Perfect for him, especially.  
  
He doesn't know what his body is telling his brain, but suddenly he's reaching out and curling his fingers into the lapel of Minseok's jacket.  
  
Minseok freezes, but he manages to get his other shoe off. When he looks up, his eyes are perilously dark.  
  
"I must be obsessed with you, pretty boy," he says.  
  
And  _finally_ , velvet-toned and whisper-soft, he  _asks_.  
  
"How do you feel about me?"  
  
Luhan's standing in the portal of the foyer, a step above him. Barefoot, in house clothes, his hair still damp.  _This is it,_ he intones, brimming with everything he's kept to himself all these months. _Finally._  
  
"How do I feel?" he mumbles, more to himself than anything else. "I'm still in love with you, Minseok-ah."  
  
All the resistance seeps out of Minseok's body--a vapor, escaping. His shoulders sag in relief. His expression softens, turns bittersweet.  
  
They've wasted so much time.  
  
"That's good to know," he breathes out, "because I feel the exact same way."  
  
It's Luhan who steps forward and presses him against the wall. Minseok's ready for him, craning up so their lips latch together like magnets. It is not gentle. It's hot and heavy, deep and merciless. They breathe in through their nostrils so they don't have to stop kissing. There are no polite introductions, no tentative licks against the seams of their mouths. Minseok opens up for him willingly, without being asked. Their tongues circle in a primal dance, and Luhan gets completely drunk off of it, plunging in for more.  
  
He can feel Minseok stirring against his thigh. He doesn't know anything about this kind of desire, but he grinds against him, anyway, on raw instinct.  
  
The sound it pulls out of Minseok makes Luhan kiss him harder. He takes one hand from where it's tangled in the other's hair and trails it down Minseok's neck, his shoulder, his chest, and back around to his ass. When he slips it into his trousers to palm a smooth cheek, Minseok breaks away for air.  
  
"Do you know," he rasps, "how crazy you make me?"  
  
"You're the one making me jealous all the time," Luhan mutters. He pushes their hips closer together, and they both let out sibilant gasps.  
  
"I thought you would stay with her forever." Minseok's trying to regain control, but Luhan presses in to make him groan. "Thought it was over between us."  
  
"It was never over." Luhan tugs at Minseok's bottom lip with his teeth, then laves over the spot with his tongue. "When are you going to touch me, Minseok-ah?"  
  
On cue, Minseok slips a hand under his shirt. His fingers meander over the grooves of Luhan's abs, searing the skin. "Like this?" he asks, chest heaving.  
  
"Yeah." Luhan shuts his eyes. It feels so good. All of it.  
  
Minseok brushes his thumb, feather-light, over a nipple. His voice is dangerous. "Where else do you want me to touch you?"  
  
"Everywhere." Luhan pulls the man flush against him, peeling away from the wall so he can walk them both in the direction of his bedroom. Minseok lets him lead the way, sucking at the side of his neck. He's going to leave marks at this rate--a row of dark red roses--and Luhan wants him to, so he can see the evidence of their mutual longing tomorrow. He feels Minseok's heat and his strength, there, between his legs, and it's enough to make him shudder. " _Everywhere._ "  
  
  
  
  
They don't say it while they're naked, writhing at every touch to uncharted territory, sweating from their exertions towards climax.  
  
Minseok does say, "You look so good, under me," and Luhan whispers, "Harder, please, Minseok-ah."  
  
They say it in the morning, over the pot of coffee Minseok brews and the stale cereal he laughs at when Luhan sheepishly serves it to him in a bowl.  
  
"Hey," Minseok says, pushing around his dry cornflakes. "I love you, Luhan."  
  
Luhan strokes the side of his face. Slowly, sweetly, shyly, until the two of them are blushing. He suspects this is one of those moments he will carry around with him like a photo in a locket--a small and lovely secret.  
  
"I love you, Kim Minseok," he says in return. "More than anybody else."  
  
  
  
  
The invites are printed on thick, glossy cards the color of eggshells. They come in matching envelopes, with the guests' names embossed in gold on the backs. One envelope reads  _Luhan_ , the other  _Kim Minseok_. Both arrived in the mail together this morning--naturally, since their recipients share the same address.  


 

_You are cordially invited  
to the 10th Anniversary Screening of_

_DAYS OF ABANDON_

_Winner of the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film_

_Directed by Gu Jin-goo_

  
Luhan smiles, sliding his card back into its pearlescent sheath. Has it been ten years already?  
  
"Lu?" Minseok calls his attention from across the table. He's on the phone. "I'm having flowers sent over to Soojung for her musical. What should we put in the card?"  
  
"Tell her we love her and we'll see her after the show," Luhan replies. He shakes his head, half in amusement, half in disbelief. "Who would have thought…" He trails off, but he takes the twinkle in Minseok's eye as understanding.  
  
_Who would have thought we could all be friends, after everything?_  
  
They were having lunch in Apgujeong one day when Soojung walked by. It was Luhan who'd called out to her first. When she saw who he was with, she'd smiled, surprising them both. She'd sat with them for another hour, chatting easily as Minseok replenished her coffee for her. Luhan thought he should say something, perhaps apologize again, when they'd finally gotten around to the check. But Soojung had stopped him with a peck on the cheek.  
  
"I want you to be happy," she'd said. And then she'd kissed Minseok, too. "Be happy, sunbae. And please," this was addressed to them both, " _please_ stop smoking."  
  
Minseok recites the message for Soojung's card to the florist. He smirks the moment he hangs up. "You underestimate how much Soojung loves me." He's preening, like a boy of seventeen, not a man of thirty-seven. "She says if we were to go by length of time, she loved me twice as much as she loved you."  
  
"Don't be a show-off," Luhan says, sticking out his tongue. Two can play at this childish game. "Besides, Romeo, neither of us holds a candle to Joonmyun now."  
  
Joonmyun--or CEO Kim, as the press refers to him--is a sweet, goofy guy who owns half the real estate in Gangnam. He also happens to be Soojung's fiancé.  
  
Minseok grins. "He's so good for her. I told you she'd fall for him in the end."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Luhan says, remembering the time a few years ago when a trembling, besotted stranger had come up to Soojung at a party and asked her out to dinner. ("I don't even  _know_ him, oppa," she'd whispered to Luhan afterwards. He'd nodded vigorously and wrapped his arm around her, still territorial. Then he'd glared at Minseok for saying, "Just give him a chance, Sooj." He'd said it in that low, reasoning voice of his that always made Soojung second-guess herself.)  
  
When Joonymun asked her to marry him, four years after their first date--still trembling, still besotted--Soojung had cried out of sheer happiness.  
  
Minseok reaches for the envelope with his name on it. "Are Jongin and Kyungsoo coming with us later?" He draws the invite out with deft fingers. "I haven't seen those lovebirds in a few days."  
  
Luhan cocks an eyebrow. "They're in Tokyo right now, remember? Jonginnie's performing in Japan all throughout this week." He walks over to Minseok's side of the table. " _You're_  the one who told me to tell Soojung."  
  
Minseok crinkles his brow. "Ah, that's right." His laugh is so cute when he's embarrassed. "I forgot."  
  
"Senior moment, old man?"  
  
Minseok screws up his mouth in disapproval, but he reaches for Luhan, anyway. "Shut up and tell me what this fancy invitation is all about."  
  
Luhan pecks the crown of his head. He perches his chin on the exact same spot. "It's been ten years, baby. They're going to screen  _Days of Abandon_  again, to celebrate the decade since it came out."  
  
"I can't believe it's been that long," Minseok murmurs, sliding his hand up and down Luhan's waist. He'd done the same thing at the Oscars, secretly, when they'd settled into their seats. The grandeur of the occasion had taken Luhan's breath away. And then they'd won.  
  
"Amazing, right?" Luhan melts into his touch. "Ten years since we made the movie. Ten years since we met."  
  
"Best ten years of my life," Minseok says softly, without artifice. Luhan swoops down to steal a kiss.  
  
"Maybe this year we'll go public." He's being cheeky again, because he knows how it amuses his companion. "Practically everyone in the industry knows about us already…"  
  
"That's because  _you_ ," Minseok jabs him in the ribs, "can't keep your hands to yourself when we're in public."  
  
"I can't help it," Luhan whines. "Do you know how good you look in a suit? It's unfair." He traces the shell of Minseok's ear with his lips. "Makes me want to take it off."  
  
"And you usually succeed." Minseok sighs, but he doesn't resist when Luhan presses their mouths together a second time. He does laugh when it gets a little too heated, a little too fast. "Come on, we don't have time. We still have to get ready--"  
  
"It won't take long," Luhan insists, throwing a leg over Minseok's thighs so he can straddle him. "I promise I'll make it good for you."  
  
Minseok's grip tightens on his waist. "All right," he relents, swallowing hard. He works on the top buttons of Luhan's polo shirt, ladling out kisses, ripe and moist.  
  
Even now, when Luhan's got furrows where his skin used to be smooth, and Minseok's got a touch of gray at his temple, they're still crazy about each other.  
  
Luhan pops the button on Minseok's fly. "We could go public at the screening thing," he jokes, sliding the zipper down. "Give 'em that happy ending they've always asked for. Crash Dispatch's website."  
  
"Whatever you want, Lu," Minseok mumbles against his lips. He shucks off Luhan's shirt when he gets to the last button on the placket.  
  
Luhan was going to take that as his cue to start the slow rock of their hips. But Minseok pulls back without warning, and it stops him in his tracks.  
  
There is a moment of deliberate, weighted eye contact between them. Minseok brings up a hand to cradle Luhan's face. It's familiar and loving. Then he nods--encouraging, almost?--and in all seriousness, he repeats the same words. " _Whatever_ you want, Lu."  
  
Luhan's smile unfurls timidly at first. He can't believe what Minseok is offering him. But then he remembers. Fingers laced in cable cars. Milk tea shared in crowded streets. A long escalator ride to the top of a city. He thinks of climbing into bed at night with the man he loves--the sexy, devastating one in all the magazines; the soft, warm, sleepy version in his comfortable pajamas.  
  
All at once, Luhan is beaming. His heart is so full, and his hands hold Minseok near and dear.  
  
"Best ten years of my life," he swears. "Fifty more to come."  
  
Minseok seems satisfied with that--for now. In the meantime, Luhan reels him back in, and they kiss anew.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a gift for [mapofwords](https://mapofwords.livejournal.com/) on LJ.


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